The Battle Of Who Could Care Less
by Solo Ensemble
Summary: See Old GH meet New GH as Sonny and Jason team up with Robert and Luke to save the citizens of Port Charles - and presumably, the free world - from the clutches of Helena Cassidine, with Elizabeth right smack dab in the middle.
1. 01

**Prompt: No matter how dark the sunglasses, I still see you.**

_I'd just like to take a quick moment to say that plagiarism is wrong. It's deceitful, unethical, and extremely hurtful. There are honestly no words to describe how disgusted I am with certain individuals who feel that they can copy popular Liason fics verbatim and use them for other couples. I thank the Admins of the site in question for quickly removing all plagiarized stories, and I certainly hope no Liason writer – or any other writer, for that matter – has to deal with this shit again._

_As readers, if you see a fic at another 'ship site that resembles another fic you may have read, the best thing you can do is email the author post haste and say, "Hey, I might be sniffing the Sharpie a bit hard, but this fic looks a __lot like one that you wrote. Take a look." Thank you to those readers that have done this in the past._

_Just say no to plagiarism._

**Also, Amanda forced me to turn this one-parter into a full-length flash fiction series. So we blame her. I know everyone hates me for having all these ongoing stories, but they will all be finished. Trust me.**

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* * *

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**Death to All Jellybeans**

"_Mooooooom!" _Five-year-old Michael Corinthos III let himself into the penthouse and kicked the door shut with the heel of his black tennis shoe. "Dad! I'm _hooooome_!"

His uncle Jason was the first one to emerge and the older man grinned the instant he stepped out of the kitchen and laid eyes on his nephew. "Hey, buddy. C'mere."

Michael dutifully held out his arms and let his uncle swoop him up into a bear hug before carrying him over to the dining table. Sonny and Carly emerged momentarily from the kitchen, each of them carrying a glass of wine, and the tall blonde broke out into a beaming smile as soon as she saw her son.

"Hey, Mr. Man!" Giving him a quick kiss on the forehead, she tousled his silky red hair and plopped down onto the seat next to him. "Did you have fun at Gramma's?"

The little boy nodded, laughing when Sonny kissed his cheek noisily and tickled his stomach before settling himself down on a seat across from him next to Jason. "Yeah. She made me cookies and let me have my own room this time!"

"That's because you're becoming a big boy," Carly preened, straightening his little collar and brushing his hair out of his face.

Michael sat up straighter in his seat, pleased with the compliment. "And Mr. Taggert gave me a sticker," he announced, pointing proudly at the D.A.R.E. sticker that was only barely clinging to his striped shirt. "It doesn't stick so good anymore because I took it off of my pajamas and put it on this shirt."

"It's nice," Sonny replied quickly with a small smile.

The little boy bit his lower lip, his eyes straying toward his uncle for a moment before he worked up the courage to ask his father a long-overdue question. "Dad?"

"Yes?"

"Um…what did you do to make people so mad at you?"

Jason leaned back in his seat, giving Sonny a sidelong glance as his old friend rubbed a hand over his jaw.

"I mean, when I was at Gramma Bobbie's, I saw on the TV that a lot of people were saying that you were bad and ipperon – irrep – _irresponsible_," he finished with conviction, "and that they were mad at you."

Sonny let out a long sigh and leaned forward, tenting his fingers on the table. "Michael, do you remember what I told you before I left?"

The boy nodded. "That it was really important and you had to leave, and we had to have a pretend funeral for you and act like we were really sad…and not to tell anyone."

"That's right," the mob boss answered smoothly. "I told you and your mom and uncle Jason that I was leaving and that it was a secret, but…most of the people in town thought it was real. They thought that I was really dead. And when they found out I wasn't…some of those people got mad."

Michael nodded slowly, beginning to make sense of what his father said. "Because they didn't like that you lied?"

"I had to," Sonny responded softly. "It was the best way to keep everyone I love – you and Mom and Jason and Gramma Bobbie – safe. And I'm sorry it made some people mad, but I had to do it. You understand, right?"

The child nodded. "Yeah. I feel bad, though. It sounded like a lot of people weren't really _mad_…just hurt." His father's brows furrowed, and Michael popped a few jellybeans into his mouth before he mumbled, "…like Lizabeth."

Carly's dark eyes darted toward Jason, and her lips pinched into a frown when a flicker of regret raced across her best friend's cerulean orbs. It had been a couple days since the little twit had left him, and she personally couldn't understand why Jason wasn't patting himself on the back for dodging a bullet.

Sonny shifted in his seat, trying not to look in Jason's direction. "E-Elizabeth was there?"

Michael nodded, pulling a few more pieces of candy out of the plastic bag in his lap. "Yup. She lives at the Brownstone now. At first, I was a little sad that I had to stay there for two days til I could come home, but she said it would be like a party, and she'd play with me while Gramma and everyone else was at work. And guess what – I actually stayed up til midnight!"

There was no mistaking the happy, triumphant gleam in her son's eyes, and a sour taste invaded Carly's mouth on the reflection that the little Muffinface had something to do with it. "Gramma let you stay up til midnight?"

Michael shook his head. "Nope. She was gonna make me dinner, but then she got a call and had to run to the hospital, so Lizabeth said that she'd stay with me. She said we could order pizza-" He looked over at his father just in time to see the older man grimace – "and then we played Pictionary and she got out her Muppets Show videos, and I stayed up til midnight! But I got up late the next day, and me and Lizabeth just watched cartoons in our pj's til lunch. It was fun."

Uncomfortable silence descended on the room as Michael happily sneaked jellybeans into his mouth. After a long moment, Jason finally broke it.

"Is she…Is she doing okay?"

The boy didn't pick up the hesitation in his uncle's outwardly casual voice. "Yeah. She showed me her new painting – it's really cool."

"Yeah?" A small smile curved Sonny's lips as he reached for his wine. "She's painting again? That's good."

Michael nodded enthusiastically. "You shoulda seen it, Dad. It's like, crazy. It's all black with a bit of blue and red – she said she took her old credit card and dipped it in paint and just _slashed_ it onto the canvas or whatever. It's awesome! She didn't tell me the title, though, because she said it was a bad word."

Jason slumped back in his seat as Sonny covered his mouth with his hand. Carly took one look at the two of them and rolled her eyes – honestly, the world did in no way, shape or form come crashing to an end just because a little milkmaid bought a clue and waltzed her little ass out of a world where she didn't belong.

Desperate to change the subject, she once again turned her attention to her oblivious little son. "Michael, where'd you get those jellybeans from?"

"Lizabeth."

The blonde rolled her eyes. It figured.

"Ac'shully, she got 'em from Uncle Luke, but she gave them to me and told him that he didn't have to bribe her 'cuz there were easier ways of getting her to do what he wanted."

Sonny and Carly exchanged quizzical looks at the comment and even Jason looked confused. "Luke was there with Elizabeth?"

Michael nodded at his mother, popping more jellybeans into his mouth and purposely ignoring his father's frown of disapproval. "Yeah, he and Lucky came by to talk to Lizabeth about stuff. They were really excited, I think, and when Johnny came to pick me up, Lizabeth was packing."

Sonny frowned at his best friend. "That doesn't sound right. Are you sure, Michael?"

The boy nodded, snatching his plastic bag away when his mother tried to grab it. "No, Mom – they're mine!" The blonde relented – temporarily – and Michael began to recount what he remembered. "She told me that she liked hanging out with me, and that I might not see her for a couple days. She also asked how you were doing."

Jason's eyes widened. "_Me_?"

"Yup." He chomped away on his candy, oblivious to the looks exchanged between the adults in the room. "And Uncle Luke said to tell you, Dad, that they're waiting for you down below. What does he mean?"

Sonny rolled his eyes. "Nothing, son. Sometimes, Uncle Luke says crazy things that no one understands. It's best if you don't pay too much attention to him."

Carly was smirking as Michael shrugged. "Kay. But Lizabeth pays a lot of attention to him, so I don't think he's _that_ crazy. I mean, she's kinda smart – for a girl – and I don't think she'd like him or do what he says if he was really crazy."

"What was he saying?" Sonny wheedled, his curiosity getting the best of him. "What was he trying to get Elizabeth to do?"

Michael scratched his head, thinking. "Well, I didn't hear all of it, 'cuz I was sitting in the hall playing with Chelsea's canary. It's blue and it really likes crackers and when it walks, it's head goes up and down – like this." They waited until he was done with his impersonation. "But he said something about needing her help with something he was doing. Mom, what are wimminly-wiles?"

"Womanly wiles?" Carly repeated. "Did Luke say that?"

The child nodded. "Yeah, he said that was why they needed Lizabeth – 'cuz of her 'doll-face' and pretty legs. Then he said that men are suckers for the wimminly-thing."

Sonny was frowning, his hand still covering his mouth, and Jason was looking at the child in complete bewilderment. If the entire subject wasn't so distasteful, Carly would have laughed out loud.

But Michael wasn't done.

"Dad, do you know a guy named Roy Lucca?"

"Roy Di Lucca," Sonny corrected. "Yeah, he used to be a friend of your Gramma Bobbie."

The information surprised Michael, and the child sat still for a moment before sighing sadly. "Oh. I wonder if she knows that he's dead."

Jason's eyes bulged out of his head and Sonny choked on his wine. Carly snapped her gaping mouth shut and took a slow breath before leaning closer to her son. "Michael? Hey, how did you know that?"

The boy shrugged. "Uncle Luke said so. That's what he wanted to talk to Lizabeth about. He wanted her to help him find out who did it."

Jason's hands clenched into fists, and it didn't take Michael long to realize that his father was upset as well. "Uh…did I say something bad?"

"No, no, sweetheart," Carly assured him, running her fingers through his hair. "No way, Mr. Man. We're just…surprised that Uncle Luke would tell Elizabeth about that."

"Well, she said that she really liked Roy," the boy tried to answer on the behalf of the eccentric Spencer. "She said that Roy and Uncle Jason saved her life. Did you really, Uncle Jason?" The enforcer's dazed half-nod was enough for the boy, who continued excitedly. "It sounded like a really cool a'venture, ac'shully. Uncle Luke said that Lucky was already on it, and now he needed Lizabeth's help. She didn't want to at first, but he changed her mind."

"She should have stuck with that," Sonny mumbled, running a hand through his hair.

Michael shrugged. "Well, Uncle Luke told her that she had two choices: she could either sit around at the Brownstone and do nothing but eat and sleep and paint and pine away for some clueless…Mom, what does 'fuck-nut' mean?"

Both Sonny and Carly groaned aloud, neither of them daring to look in Jason's direction as the enforcer gaped at his nephew from across the table.

"Anyway, he said she could do that, or she could come with him and find out who hurt Roy." Michael tossed a couple jellybeans in the air and managed to catch them in his mouth, a feat he celebrated by pumping his fists into the air several times. "He told her that it was about time that she had some fun and some danger in her life – like the old days. Dad, what did he mean? What was Lizabeth like in the old days?"

Sonny, still slightly off-center from all the information his five-year-old son had tossed out in the past ten minutes, took a minute to absently respond. "Uh, she was…she was kinda…she got into trouble a bit. She liked to have fun and stay out late and do what she wanted. She's still like that sometimes."

Michael nodded sagely. "That musta been what he meant. He said something about how she had helped them beat Helena Cassidine, and that this would be nothing compared to that."

There was a brief pause and Sonny looked at the child expectantly. "…And?"

"Oh, and he asked her to pack all the miniskirts she had. The shorter, the better. And tube tops. What are tube tops? And hey – what are garters? Aren't they snakes? Why would Lizabeth pack snakes? And if she has snakes...how come she hasn't shown 'em to me?"

Carly groaned and dropped her head to the table, refusing to believe what her young son was telling her. This just wasn't possible – there was no way in Hell that the goody-goody-Muffin-Face was up to whatever crazy scheme Luke was hatching. He'd be better off commissioning Lamb Chop to help him than that little twit.

Jason had heard enough. He rapped his knuckles on the table as he swung around to face a displeased Sonny. "This is crazy."

"I'm not disagreeing," the moblord sighed heavily, shaking his head.

"He should know better than to try to pull her into this," Jason seethed, already standing up from his seat. "I don't care what happened between…I don't care what happened – Elizabeth needs us to step in here."

"We'll go find Luke right now and talk him out of this," Sonny agreed, pulling out his cellphone. "She's probably still at the Brownstone, so if we head over now, we can talk to her."

"Uh, I don't think that's gonna work," Michael interjected hesitantly, cramming a handful of jellybeans into his mouth. All three adults turned to stare at him.

"Why not?" Sonny asked patiently as Jason gripped the back of one of the chairs.

Michael's blue orbs traveled from his mother to his father to Jason, finally landing back on his perturbed father once more. "Because…Lizabeth's already on a plane to Mexico."


	2. 02

**Prompt: Fear of Fire**

**The Battle of Who Could Care Less 02**

"Boss, Benny's here."

"Let him in."

Johnny nodded and pushed the door to the penthouse wide open, ushering the aging 'accountant' in. If Sonny didn't find something better for him to do than play Revolving Door all day long, he was seriously going to have to pick up the Classifieds.

Jason was leaning against the back of one of Sonny's overstuffed olive green couches as Benny shuffled in and immediately handed his best friend a folder – a very thin folder.

"What've you got, Benny?" Sonny asked even as he flipped through the pages of the report. The results appeared unsatisfying and he looked up at his chief fact-finder for an explanation.

The older man clasped his hands in front of his waist and took a deep breath. "I checked all airplanes leaving the Tri-State area for Mexico; I had all the cars on the interstate heading south tagged; I made phone calls to all of our contacts in the area all morning…"

Jason lifted one sandy brow humorlessly. "And?"

Benny raised his broad shoulders uncomfortably. "Nothing. It's like they vanished into thin air."

Sonny tossed the folder onto his desk and rubbed his temples. "Benny, three adults cannot just 'vanish into thin air' like that."

The accountant pursed his lips together as his grey eyes darted between his employer and the enforcer. "You'll pardon me for saying this, Sir, but Luke Spencer can make anyone vanish anytime he feels like it."

Jason pinched the bride of his nose. "Keep working on it, Benny, okay? Go over everything again – just find _something_ that can tell us where he went."

Benny nodded tersely and turned, exiting the penthouse through the door that Johnny held open for him. The young bodyguard had heard the entire conversation and though he knew it could easily get him his ass handed back to him on a platter, he decided to speak up.

"Boss, have you tried…what about asking Michael?"

Both Sonny and Jason looked sharply up at him. "What?"

The guard shrugged, uncomfortable under their dark stares. "I'm just saying that it's been almost three days since you found out about this thing, and even in that time, Benny came up with nothin'. Michael already heard a good deal of whatever it was that Luke was telling Eliz-Miss Webber, and there might be a chance that he remembers hearing a location or their travel plans or something."

Sonny looked at Jason, whose strong features were set in a tense frown. He didn't like it any more than his best friend did, but as he reluctantly looked up toward the stairs, he figured that if there was even the slightest chance that Michael remembered something, they'd have to take it. "Michael? Can you come down here for a minute?"

"One sec!" They waited a brief moment before they heard him thundering down the hallway upstairs and then the little redhead came barreling down the stairs with two of his favorite action figures in his grubby hands. "Yeah?"

"Buddy, c'mere," Jason beckoned, kneeling on the floor as the little boy came closer. "Do you think you could help me and your Dad out?"

The boy studied the adults carefully. "I dunno."

"Michael," Sonny tried, running a hand through his dark hair, "we're trying to find out where your Uncle Luke is, and so far, Benny's been having a rough time. Do you remember him saying anything about where they were going?"

"Mexico," the boy answered automatically, pleased with himself for providing what he thought was crucial information.

Jason rubbed a hand over his jaw. "Yeah, but do you know _where_ in Mexico?"

"Some place where they make a lot of tea."

The response threw both Sonny and Jason for a loop. "Did Luke say that?"

The redhead shrugged. "Well, that's the only thing he coulda meant."

"Hey, Buddy, can you try real hard and remember the exact words that Luke said?" Jason tried, peering down at the little boy as he scrunched his forehead and thought.

"Well, I think it was a place with a lot of tea because Uncle Luke told Lizabeth that they were gonna find 'emselves in hot water."

Jason let out a soft sigh, thinking to himself that they had expected too much of the little boy. He was just at his grandmother's house to have a good time until things calmed down at the penthouse after his father's death; he didn't know that he'd be their main informant on one of Luke Spencer's half-baked adventures.

"Thanks a lot, Buddy," he smiled, patting the boy on the back. "You helped us out a lot today."

"Can I go back to my room now?" was all the little tyke wanted to know. "I have to have Captain America save Princess Peach from the Evil Shoe Monster."

"You go do that, then," Jason nodded, tousling his nephew's silky locks as the boy raced back upstairs. He pinched the bridge of his nose and waited until Michael was out of earshot. "It was a stretch, at best. We can't expect him to remember something like that."

But when he rose from his spot and looked over at Sonny, he was surprised to see his best friend's obsidian eyes glittering as he thought. Both Jason and Johnny watched curiously as Sonny turned toward the telephone with a snap of his fingers.

"I know where they are."

* * *

"I swear I'm gonna chop off your legs before I ever get into another plane with you again."

Lucky Spencer directed a sidelong glare at his ex-girlfriend as the two of them walked behind his father through the Oaxaca airport. "I can't help it if I have long legs."

"No, but _I_ can – by chopping them off," Elizabeth glowered, tugging on the bill of her baseball cap as she quickened her pace to keep up with Luke's long strides. "I've got bruises on my legs, Lucky – bruises!"

"Archie, Edith, knock it off," Luke called back good-naturedly, shooting his favorite young couple a wink. "You two are bickering like an old married couple. It's disgusting. At least swear or pull out a roundhouse kick or something so I know I haven't lost you."

"Elizabeth's just a little cranky, Dad," Lucky assured him, draping an arm over the petite brunette's shoulders and resisting the urge to grunt when she smacked him in the chest. "She's not used to our life on the road."

"I'm not _used_ to being assaulted by those totem poles you call legs every time I try to move," she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning at Luke's back. "Whose idea was it to use a four-person helicopter, anyway?"

"That'd be Orville Wright up there," Lucky grimaced as his father cut past a young group of girls and rounded the corner on the way to the exit. "But all things considered, it wasn't that bad, was it?"

She glared at him, trying to shrug off the heavy arm he purposely kept draped around her shoulders. "Oh, with you kicking me every two seconds and Luke snoring and emitting all sorts of unique _aromas_, it was definitely a little slice of heaven."

Lucky grinned and jostled her against his side, ignoring her protests, as they quickly left the airport through the maintenance doors and wound through the cement maze of corridors and loading docks, trying to find their next means of transportation. "Trust me, Elizabeth, before we're done here, you'll already be signing up for the next one."

Luke chortled his agreement as the petite brunette fumed, jogging now to keep up with her ex's long strides. "You oughta know that by now, Darlin': resistance is futile. Cowboy and I are downright addictive."

The younger Spencer glanced down at the woman tucked against his side and he could see her trying to fight a smile of her own. Complain as she might, Lucky knew there was no denying the fact that Elizabeth loved spending time with Luke and participating in any number of his crazy schemes.

She was a different person around Luke than she was around anyone else, even him. He suspected it had something to do with the fact that Luke never had any expectations from her like the rest of the town. In his company, she didn't have to be good and sweet and responsible and unselfish. She could curse, drink, act out – not that she ever really _did, _in the truest sense of the act – and it would all be in good company. His father had a way of making anyone in his intimate company feel like the most important person in the world, the most treasured friend, and Lucky knew that as far as people like Elizabeth went, it was genuine.

He had been mildly surprised that she had agreed to come along in the first place, but what surprised him even more was that his father had asked her to. Luke took his family's safety very seriously and even though it was perfectly acceptable for him to drag along his son on a kamikaze mission, bringing a person like Elizabeth into it was a different matter. He had cornered his father out of earshot a couple times about the situation and Luke had assured him that he knew what he was doing and no harm whatsoever would come to Elizabeth – despite the fact that she was sure to be right in the thick of things. Lucky didn't quite know how the two could be reconciled, but he bit his tongue and followed his father's lead – and not for the first time, either.

Elizabeth, it seemed, had several different reasons for accompanying the two of them down toward the equator. For one thing, it had been far too long since she had seen any action. The trauma of the last major battle between the Spencers and Cassidines had faded, and Luke never let the young woman forget how crucial she had been in that whole ordeal. A change of scenery had sounded appealing, and it was no secret that Elizabeth would have done anything for Luke whenever he asked – so long as he didn't insult her by trying to bribe her with stale jellybeans.

But more importantly than that, Lucky knew that her presence had a good deal to do with Jason Morgan. The two of them had been involved in a relationship of sorts, from what he gathered, although he wasn't certain of the details and Elizabeth certainly hadn't bothered to fill him in. But when Sonny faked his death, Jason conveniently neglected to mention it to his girlfriend and spent all of his free time guarding Sonny's air-headed sister and, as it turned out, baby-sitting Brenda Barrett. When the news leaked and the mafia lord made it back home amidst a throng of reporters and press fanfare, Elizabeth had packed up and left. She had stayed at the Brownstone for a while and seemed to be hiding out – that is, until Luke found her and forced her out of her shell.

Lucky watched as his father waved down a young native and spoke to him animatedly as he and Elizabeth quickly covered the distance between the two of them. If Elizabeth needed to do this to keep her mind off Jason Morgan, that was understandable. She'd come along with them on a week's vacation to Mexico, help out with their mission, and then she'd be able to take the next flight back to Port Charles.

"All right, kids, ready?" There was something gleaming in Luke Spencer's fiery blue eyes that Elizabeth didn't like, and she studied the older man suspiciously as Lucky took her duffel bag from her.

"Where's our ride, Luke?" she asked calmly, her hands curling into fists when the old man's grin widened. Oh, this did _not_ look good.

The young man that Luke had flagged down was waving over a large, rusted brown truck which emitted the most ear-piercing, horribly shrill squawking noises Elizabeth had ever heard. Lucky's mouth fell open as he stared into the back of the truck, taking in the stacked cages and flying feathers.

"Dad…" he got out, swallowing roughly as he continued to stare at the birds. "Those are _chickens_."

"Wrong," Luke beamed, making Elizabeth want to reach out and throttle him. "_That's_ our ride. Next stop: Aguascalientes."


	3. 03

**Prompt: Amnesia**

**The Battle of Who Could Care Less – 03**

"This whole damn town is overrun with cats."

Those were the first words out of Robert Scorpio's mouth as his old friend strode into the dark, dingy back quarters of a run-down bar in the small rural town of Calvillo, Aguascalientes.

The young woman that staggered in with Luke's son picked a few white feathers out of her dark chestnut hair and wearily nodded her thanks to the dark-haired young man who relieved her of her duffel bag. "It's better than a tiny damn truck overrun with chickens."

The ex-commissioner's blue eyes fell on the petite brunette as she dusted dried mud off the back of her denim shorts, kicking Lucky in the shin when the young man tried to 'help'. He turned to Luke, crossing his arms over his chest as he tried to read the look in his old friend's smug topaz eyes. "That the girl?"

Elizabeth perked up at his rough voice, a little put-off by being referred to simply as 'the girl', but nonetheless intrigued by the imposing Australian. She watched as Luke mirrored Robert's stance, nodding proudly. "That's her."

Robert sized her up once more, noting her diminutive frame, dark hair, and alabaster skin. "She's perfect."

"I've always thought so," Luke agreed confidingly, shooting a blushing Elizabeth a wink. "Meet Elizabeth Webber – don't let her Tinkerbelle looks fool you; she's a Spencer through and through. And you remember Cowboy. Kids, meet Robert Scorpio, the slickest son of a bitch this side of the equator."

"I'd like that on my tombstone," Robert quipped, clapping Lucky on the shoulder and tousling his hair before giving Elizabeth's small hand a firm shake. "Good to see you again, Lucky. Nice to meet you, Elizabeth."

The younger woman was looking up at him hesitantly, nibbling on her full bottom lip, and Robert braced himself for the impending question. "I..I don't mean to be rude, but aren't you…aren't you Robin's father?"

The older man gruffly cleared his throat and ducked his head, nodding. "Yes. Am I to assume my reputation precedes me?"

He watched the little brunette quirk an admiring half-smile at him. "In more ways than one. I…I'm sorry, I just had no idea you were alive. Luke's told me so much about you, and when Lucky told me you and your wife had died ten years ago, I just…I'm sorry, I'm rambling," she blushed, swiping her hair out of her face and glancing at her toes, a girlish little quirk that Robert found surprisingly endearing. "It's nice to meet you, too."

"It's all right," Robert assured her, scratching his chin before frowning down at an orange tabby cat that brushed up against his legs. "I'm a bit used to that reaction now, to be honest. My wife and I both survived the accident but thought it prudent to maintain the illusion. I only came out of hiding a year or so ago."

Elizabeth nodded, feeling awkward for prying into the man's life like she had. But she had been unable to help it; when she had first moved to Port Charles, Robert and Anna Scorpio were a legend, and their memory lived on through Malcolm Scorpio, their trusted colleague Luke Spencer, and their daughter Robin Scorpio. And to actually be standing in the company of the legend himself, and to find out that Luke had brought her on to work with him – it was a bit much to take in all at once.

"Any booze in this joint?" Luke wondered aloud, and Elizabeth found his inquiry remarkable apropos. "We're in the back of a bar, for crying out loud. Ay, amigo! Booze-o!"

"Luke, why don't you sit down before someone slits your throat with a broken bottle?" Robert asked in a patronizing tone, already leading his old friend to an empty table. The back quarters were bustling with Mexican men, young and old, and almost all the eyes in the room had been on the foursome since they entered. Lucky guided Elizabeth forward, his hand at the small of her back, and Robert grabbed two rickety chairs for them.

"All right, we have several things that deserve our attention right-"

"I'm not thinking about anything til I get some alcohol in my system," Luke announced, making Robert roll his eyes.

"That shouldn't be difficult," the older man mumbled, motioning for a couple of beers.

His best friend just shrugged. "Hey, I didn't come down to the tequila capital of the world for nothing. This whole thing is just a fringe benefit."

Elizabeth smirked at the exchange between the two older men and elbowed Lucky, who just grinned back. Sitting in a cloud of cigar smoke on the most unstable chair on the planet, she suddenly felt like she was part of the most elite, secret club, and supposed that Robert and Luke had that affect on people. She looked up gratefully when the beer arrived and quickly popped her bottle open on her belt buckle, earning an amused look from Robert. She shrugged, earning a small grin from the man, and took a pull as Lucky fumbled for his army knife.

"Now we're talking," Luke crowed, giving the young man who had brought the bottles the two-finger salute. "Keep 'em coming, compadre."

Robert had yet to open his bottle as he spun it between his hands on the rough wooden surface. "Let's get on with it."

"Yeah," Luke agreed, having already downed half of his beer. "First, this place smells like cat shit. Second, I'm gonna need something stronger than this. Third, you told me next to nothing on the phone; I'm not Tanganeva, man. You're gonna have to fill me in."

"_First_," Robert mimicked, finally cracking open what would be his third beer of the night. "I already told you this whole damn town is overrun with cats. Second, I need you here with me, not lying down on a sponge, so until then, that's all you get. And before I get to the details…" His gaze slid toward Elizabeth, who was playing with the neck of her glass bottle. "I have a few questions for Elizabeth."

The brunette pursed her lips and quirked him a half-smile, crossing her arms over the table. "Fire away."

"Why did you agree to come with Luke?"

Her sapphire eyes found Luke's pale topaz ones, and Elizabeth shrugged one shoulder as she met Robert's gaze once more. "Old habits die hard."

He raised a brow but didn't question her further. "What do you do?"

She leaned back uneasily, extremely reluctant to tell the great Robert Scorpio that she was a waitress. "What are my skills, you mean?" Elizabeth didn't notice Luke's proud smile as she began to tick off a list on her fingers. "I have a great memory, a keen sense of detail, I can sketch just about anything after looking at it once, I have marginally good people skills-"

"She can snowball anyone with her Princess act while robbing them blind," Luke clarified, nudging Robert roughly with his shoulder and motioning for another beer.

The detective watched Elizabeth glare at the older Spencer, but the sparkle in her dark sapphire orbs belied her amusement as she continued. "And I've worked with Luke in the past. Why? Probably because I have an undiagnosed tumor in my brain the size of a melon."

Robert laughed and looked at Luke, who was already downing his second beer. "Don't you fall for it," he replied, shaking a finger at Robert. "She helped the Spencers take down Helena by faking her death."

That made Robert lean back in his chair with an impressed look on his face, only for it to give way to a scowl when he realized he was leaning back against a none-too-pleased calico. The cat hissed and vacated his seat and Robert turned back to Elizabeth. "So, Elizabeth, you think you're up for this?"

She glanced at Lucky and toyed with her bottle, staring Robert directly in the eyes. "I've been up against worse, so yes."

"Good," Robert answered simply, "because you fit the exact profile of the girl we need." He noticed both Elizabeth and Lucky's confused looks and hastened to explain. "We need a woman that can fit in among the young women in this town – fair skin, dark hair, and preferably petite."

"Who's 'we', exactly?" Lucky wanted to know, stretching his long legs out to the side. "I thought it was just us four trying to find out who killed Roy."

Robert shook his head. "If only it were that simple," he sighed. "Roy stumbled onto something bigger than he was – bigger than the four of us, possibly. And unfortunately, I don't have all the pieces to this puzzle yet."

"Just tell us what we're looking at," Luke told him seriously, pushing his beer to the side and crossing his arms over the table. The four of them were clustered together now in the dark room, and they still occasionally earned curious and expectant glances from the rest of the occupants.

"This town is run by a single warlord," Robert began. "His name is Raymundo Navarro Palacio, but he is known in the town as Don Buenaventura." Lucky snorted, amused, and Robert looked around at the rest of the men in the room. "You are sitting right now in the headquarters of the _Libertad_ party; these men want to remove Don Buenaventura from power."

Elizabeth's eyes swept slowly around the room, taking in the mostly young men who looked blandly back at her. Several had visible scars on their faces, their arms, their legs, and surely other places; a couple of them were missing a hand or other appendage. They all wore loose black trousers with a thick belt at the midsection and white shirts. Several were wearing what she assumed was the party's official trademark apparel: a white bandana tied either around the neck or the wrist.

"How did you get in touch with these men?" she asked, finally turning back to a solemn Robert.

The older man sighed heavily and rubbed the back of his neck. "Roy came down here a couple months ago and fell in with the party. He had gotten a tip from a contact that told him something bigger was going down in the house of Don Buenaventura, and he worked with the party to find out what it was. There was an artifact of some sort in the Don's private collection that he was trying to…_retrieve_."

Elizabeth nodded hastily, not needing the euphemism to know what Robert was saying about Roy's work down in central Mexico, and the Australian continued.

"It was his second attempt to infiltrate the house when he was discovered. He and several other members of the party split up and all of them managed to scale the far walls and escape the compound. They couldn't return to the headquarters for fear that they were still being chased, so they hid in an alley and inspected the damage. Roy was severely wounded; he had been shot through the thoracic cavity twice and was bleeding out."

Robert waited, tapping his blunt nails on the edge of the table as Luke scrubbed a hand wearily over his face at the account of what happened to one of his closest friends. Finally, he took a breath and continued.

"There was nothing to be done, and Roy informed the party to contact his associates. He named me in particular because we had been working closely together for the past couple of months since he went to Mexico."

Elizabeth's wide eyes were on him and Robert paused, struck momentarily by how much she resembled his own daughter in the dim light. Swallowing roughly, he explained. "Roy had heard from his contacts that there was going to be an incident in Paris and that…Robin would be in danger." Luke watched sympathetically as his best friend rubbed his eyes, propping his chin up in his hands. "I was in Seine when I received the call, and there wasn't enough time to have someone else cover it. So, I…I did what I needed to do to save my daughter."

His eyes were tired and dull, and Elizabeth's heart went out to him. "She was…surprised to see me, to say the least, and it didn't make the operation go any smoother. But I managed to keep her safe, thanks to Roy, and have been working since then to find out who was behind it, and why they would want to hurt her. Roy thought that it was all somehow connected, though I can't say that I agreed – until now, that is."

Her head was spinning from the information and she was dead tired from their trip, but Elizabeth tried her best to think clearly, not wanting to embarrass Luke or give Robert any indication that she wasn't cut out for the job. "You think that Roy was discovered, and that his connection to you was discovered as well, so someone went after Robin?" Her brow scrunched together as she nipped at her mangled lower lip. "It's a bit of a stretch."

"Yes and no," Robert answered, crossing his legs at the ankle underneath the table that protested under their weight. "I agree with you – I don't think that my daughter was targeted because of my connection to Roy. But, I do have reason to believe that he was discovered and tagged – and not just for his loyalty to the _Libertad_ party, either. And…" he trailed off, glancing at Luke. "I shouldn't say this, but the attack on Robin was…surprisingly easy to thwart. And that leads me to believe…"

"…that it was just for shock value," Elizabeth answered when he trailed off once more, a small, wistful smile curling her lips as she began to see certain pieces fit loosely together.

Robert cracked his knuckles and looked over at a smug Luke. "I like her."

The older Spencer pretended to glare at him. "Don't you go thinking you can steal her out from under me, Robert – she's no Holly."

Robert ignored the dig and looked back at the young couple seated across from him as his best friend motioned a young man over and requested another round. "So as you can see, our mission has mutated somewhat since I last spoke to Luke. Elizabeth, the reason I wanted Luke to bring along a young woman he felt he could trust was because…because we need you to infiltrate Don Buenaventura's house." He watched her sapphire eyes widen and his heart sank; still, he hurriedly tried to reassure her. "You can pull out of this at any time; you can say no right now, in fact."

He waited for her to jump at the out but when she didn't, he continued hesitantly. "The Don has an admitted soft spot for young women in your age bracket ever since he lost his niece a few years ago – he had raised her himself since birth when her parents passed on. His estate is full of young women from the town – they manage his clerical affairs, do routine housekeeping tasks, maintain the garden, care for the livestock, and other such tasks. The party already has several of their own women on the inside, and you'll be joining them – if you choose to accept. There has never been an unfortunate incident to report concerning the Don and one of the girls in his service, so we have no reason to fear for your safety, as long as you are not discovered."

Lucky was frowning to himself, uncertain about Robert's proposition, but Luke's blue eyes were calm as they lingered on Elizabeth. He knew she was up for the job and that she wouldn't disappoint. Even at her young age, she had managed to stray into the good graces of the most powerful men in Port Charles: Sonny and Jason, Mac Scorpio and Taggert, himself, and the Quartermaine men, among others. She was no stranger to the skills that it would take to worm her way into the estate, and he had no reason to doubt her.

Robert, on the other hand, looked cautiously skeptical as he and Elizabeth continued to size each other up in the dim bar. They broke their staring contest only when the young man Luke had flogged over set four filled shot glasses down on the wobbling table.

Robert's eyes flickered back to Elizabeth and he drew his chin downward, studying her intently. "What do you say?"

Elizabeth's fingers were trembling almost imperceptibly as she reached for her glass, but a cocky smirk kicked up the corner of her mouth as she kept her glittering eyes trained on Robert.

"I say, where do I sign up?"


	4. 04

**Prompt: Sweet redemption, right in front of me**

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 04**

Sonny Corinthos undid the buttons on the cuffs of his olive green silk dress shirt as he watched his best friend pace back and forth in front of the fireplace in the massive suite he had rented for the night at the only five-star hotel in Oaxaca.

"What makes you think they're here, again?" Jason asked, stopping for a moment to stare out the open balcony doors at the sky. The sun was beginning to rise in the east and had painted the heavens a multitude of vibrant colors.

The Cuban sighed and glanced wistfully at his cell phone, willing it to ring. If it did, it would be Johnny and Max reporting on what they had found in the past two hours. "Michael said that Luke said they'd all be in hot water."

"It's an expression," Jason glowered, rubbing his palms together as he resumed his pacing.

Sonny squared his jaw and leaned back into the throw pillows that littered the designer couch. "It's also a pun – classic Luke humor." He rubbed his jaw, grimacing when he felt the stubble that had already formed there. "The smallest Mexican state is _Aguascalientes_ – the land of hot waters. Luke knew exactly what he was saying when he told Elizabeth that. If I had to pick just one spot in all of Mexico where I thought they would be, that would be it." Jason continued to glower at the floor and his motorcycle boots made quiet scuffling noises as he shuffled back and forth over the thick carpet. "Relax, Jason; Johnny and Max are bound to find something and as soon as they do, we'll be there."

That was the plan: he had sent his two guards ahead to Aguascalientes with directions to search the area and its small rural towns for anything that even remotely resembled a clue. It was a small state – not even 5500 km2 – and he hoped that it wouldn't take too long to locate three American citizens. And once Johnny and Max found them, he and Jason would fly down and insist on taking Elizabeth home with them. It was as simple as that.

But Jason didn't look too convinced, and Sonny found himself trying to reassure him. "It'll go down quick, man. We'll get over there, we'll find Luke and we'll tell him that Elizabeth is coming home with us, nothing more to it. She was conned into going with them, anyway; she'll see it our way and let us get her home safely."

He watched as his enforcer let a slow breath whistle out from between his teeth. Jason rested one arm on the ornate marble mantle, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. "…She's not going to want to listen to us, Sonny. Not after what happened."

It was the first time since he had returned from his staged death that Jason had actually mentioned the situation with Elizabeth. Prior to this, Sonny had depended on the guards to know what was going on across the hall; Johnny, the biggest gossip of them all, had been the one to inform him that Elizabeth had left Jason as soon as she saw his best friend alive and well on channel 7. So when Jason himself broached the subject, Sonny knew he couldn't let the opportunity go to waste.

Sighing uneasily, he clasped his hands in front of him and ducked his chin into his chest, peeking up at his best friend as the enforcer continued to stare out into the horizon. "Jason."

The younger man's dark cerulean orbs darted over to his and held, and Sonny took a deep breath, straightening and balancing his elbows on his knees. "Elizabeth left because I wouldn't let you tell her about me."

His best friend's face was haggard and drawn, his features tense, and Sonny noted the rigid set of his shoulders when he nodded – once.

The mob lord's voice was quiet and gruff as he pressed the backs of his thumbs to his lips. "I'm sorry I asked you to lie to her." Jason didn't reply, but his downcast eyes indicated that he at least acknowledged the apology. "If I knew this would have happened, I never would have made that request." Frustrated now with himself, he raked his hand through his curly black hair, muttering to himself. "I thought it was business, and that she didn't need to know; of course she'd take it personally. She trusted me to help her in the same situation and I didn't once think about it from her point of…"

"Wait – _what_?" Jason's intense blue eyes were trained on him and Sonny stopped, his mouth falling agape for a second when he realized what he had just been mumbling about. "What do you mean, she trusted you _in the same situation_?"

The mob boss tugged his ear, a habit he had picked up from his best friend, and clasped his hands in front of him once more. _Shit_. "Remember when you were in Spain a while back?" Jason's icy eyes narrowed and Sonny gulped despite himself. "Well…a Spencer-Cassidine war kind of…broke out."

He tensed when the enforcer prowled forward, his hands now balled into loose fists, and took the chair opposite from the couch.

Sonny pursed his lips, trying to find the words that wouldn't result in a monstrous hotel bill for damaged furniture. "It pretty much started when Helena Cassidine thought that Nikolas was in love with Elizabeth…"

Jason was glaring at him from across the ornately carved, miniscule coffee table and when the shrill ring of his cell phone interrupted him, Sonny was on the verge of jumping up and praising the Lord. Eagerly, he grabbed his phone from the endtable and studiously ignored his best friend's turbulent gaze.

"_Boss, it's Johnny."_

"What did you find?"

"_Luke, Lucky and Elizabeth are definitely in Aguascalientes. It took us a while, but we think we have a lead – they might be in Calvillo."_

"Calvillo?" He watched Jason rub his palms together, already anticipating a safe end to their trip.

"_It's an agricultural town, one of the largest in Aguascalientes. There's a warlord in power – the people call him Don Buenaventura – Mr. Good Fortune, I think. In about ten minutes or so, I bet that we'll know for sure, but I just wanted to call you anyway and tell you that we're about eighty-percent sure they're here."_

"Eighty-percent sure," Sonny repeated for Jason's benefit. "How did you find out?"

"_We scoped a nearby town – Max can pass as a native pretty easily, and we sat around in a bar and he picked up bits of conversation. Apparently, there aren't very many tourists or foreigners in this part of Mexico, so any Americans traveling around are fairly conspicuous."_

Jason's eyes darkened when he heard that, and Sonny winced. Conspicuous was _not_ good. "And?"

"_See, that's the thing – we heard a lot of talk about a guy named Roberto, and how he was helping the Libertad party_."

"The _Libertad_ party?" Sonny didn't like the sound of that, and neither did his best friend as he pushed himself off the couch and resumed pacing. "What are they about?"

"_A covert guerilla group, from what I know," _Johnny replied. _"They're trying to remove Don Buenaventura from power, and this Roberto guy is helping them. They say that some friends have joined him – two men and a young girl. We're almost positive it's them, but we haven't found out if they're foreign or not, and we haven't heard any names specifically."_

"It's them," Sonny got out, already standing up from the couch and facing Jason. "It has to be them. We'll be there as soon as we can; keep me posted if you hear anything else, and make sure the car's ready – we'll drive down to Calvillo together."

"_Sure thing, Boss."_

Without bothering to say goodbye, Sonny turned off his phone and slipped it into his pocket as he reached for the suit jacket he had left on the back of the couch. Jason was loading bullets into his omnipresent black Glock, and his eyes were dark and stormy as he shoved his way past Sonny toward the door.

"In the car, you're telling me everything."

* * *

"This is actually pretty nice," Elizabeth murmured, gazing around the spacious room as she unzipped her duffel bag. "Not bad at all." The four of them were standing in a bunker underneath the back quarters of the dingy bar. The room was massive and lined with row after row of clean white cots. There was a food storage facility in the far corner which was stocked with plenty of food and water just in case certain members of the party needed to hide out for an extended period of time, as they often did. There was a door leading to the bathing facilities where she had already noted the clean toilets and row of individual showers. The place was actually nicer than some of the hotels in the country, and she didn't mind their unique accommodations at all.

"It's not hard to please this one," Robert noted with a smirk as he walked over to the cot he had claimed since his arrival. As a foreigner, it was important for him to maintain a low-profile in the town, and he hoped that Lucky and Luke would be able to stand not leaving the hideout. Elizabeth, on the other hand, was in a far better position due to her being able to fit in physically with the other young women in the town.

"Well, this ain't no Hilton, but it'll have to do," Luke announced, opening his own duffel bag and pulling out a flask. "Ah, darlin', I thought we'd never be alone."

Lucky snorted and began to stack his clean clothes on a little mat underneath his cot before he grabbed his toothbrush. "I'll be back."

Elizabeth didn't even look up as her ex-boyfriend walked toward the far end to check out the bathroom. She carefully withdrew her clothes – short skirts, tank tops, flip flops – and neatly arranged them under her cot. She had brought along a little tote for her underwear and stockings for discretion's sake, and stowed that under her 'bed' as well.

Robert, who had been watching her unpack as he sat on his own cot nearby, frowned at her clothes and then looked up at Luke. "What'd she bring all those for?"

Elizabeth looked up at the two men, confused. "I-wasn't I supposed to?"

"Luke, you imbecile," Robert muttered, pushing himself to his feet and stalking over to where his best friend was making love to his engraved silver flask. "Did you tell her to bring all those…those…_things_?"

His best friend shrugged. "You said we needed a pretty little brunette that knew how to use her charms," he answered. "What was I supposed to tell her to bring – flannel pajamas, complete with padlocks?"

Robert rolled his eyes and raked his fingers through his thinning silver hair. "Luke, did you ever once think that maybe – just maybe – since we're in Mexico, we'd have her dress like a normal Mexican woman of her age and stature?"

Luke raised a brow and sat down on his cot, taking off his shoes before pulling his legs up Indian-style underneath him. "Sorry, but the little darlin' and I don't _do_ normal. It's against our religion."

Seeing that it was useless to try to have a civilized conversation with his old friend – a point that had been proved to him time and time again since they first met – Robert turned to Elizabeth. She seemed like a sensible young woman, even though she _did_ enjoy Luke's company.

"Elizabeth, I don't know exactly what Luke told you, but I can tell you this: you won't be needing those clothes." He regretted his choice of words when she balked up at him. "What I mean to say is, the party has already offered to supply you with all the clothes you need. You'll be completely taken care of."

"Okay," the brunette nodded, and Robert was surprised to hear a hint of relief in her voice. "What exactly will I be wearing?"

"Possibly a tunic top, a long skirt, sandals, maybe a cape-like garment," Robert answered, slipping his hands into his pocket. "Nothing too revealing or festive – we just want you to blend in, not capture unwanted attention."

The answer was reassuring and she smiled up at him. "Sounds fine by me."

"I have decided," Luke announced, cutting into their serious conversation, "that my Spanish name will be _El Guapo_." He frowned when his best friend snorted. "What? You get to be _Roberto_; I'm _El Guapo_."

"And that, my friend, is entirely debatable," the ex-commissioner replied, settling down on his own cot which stood one away from Elizabeth's.

Luke frowned sourly at him and capped his flask, standing up. "I'm gonna go upstairs and get a drink."

"Remember to stay in the back," Robert called as Luke disappeared. A moment of slightly uncomfortable silence stretched between them as he stared at the brunette only to find her staring back. She tilted her head to the side and offered him a small smile as she swung her crossed legs back and forth off the couch.

It took the hardened old detective a minute to find something reassuring to say. "Well, Elizabeth, I've heard wonderful things about you from Luke and I can tell you honestly that I look forward to working with you."

That brought a beaming smile to her face, and Robert mentally patted himself on the bat. He wasn't all that great with young women her age; he and Robin always had a special bond, but she had been very young the last time they had been together in Port Charles, and besides that, she hadn't even known he was her father for a good deal of their relationship.

But as he anticipated a similar admiring remark on her part, Robert once again found that the young woman threw him a curve ball. Tilting her head to the side and pursing her lips, the very picture of girlish innocence, she studied him carefully.

"What should I call you?"

If he had a mirror, he would have been able to see that his eyebrows had reached his hairline. "Excuse me?"

"What should I call you?" she repeated, nibbling on her lower lip as she let her flip flops fall to the clean floor. "I don't feel right just calling you _Robert_ like Luke, and I don't think you'd like me calling you _Mr. Scorpio_…"

"Damn straight," he agreed. "Makes me feel old." He considered the question for a moment longer. "I suppose you can call me Big Daddy Scorpio." She rolled her eyes and he broke out into an easy grin. "No? I suppose it does sound rather like it came from a pornographic setting. How about…" he looked at the far wall, not really seeing it as his thoughts took him back to a time he hoped he'd never forget. "How about Robbie?"

Her illuminating smile reminded him so much of his own daughter's that Robert could have sworn his heart almost skipped a beat. But the petite brunette across from him didn't notice as she nodded her head once, still biting down on her lip. "Robbie it is."


	5. 05

**Prompt: The thing I treasure most in life cannot be taken away**

**Note: **If it's in _italics_, that means that Spanish is being spoken but I'm not going to try to have you remember what Senora Bennette taught you in ninth grade. Also, this story is so much fun. That is all.

**Note Part Deux:** I said it last time, but I'll mention it again: "Robbie" is what Robin called Robert before she knew he was her father, and that is what Robert allows Elizabeth to call him.

* * *

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 05**

Morning dawned on the quaint, picturesque town of Calvillo before Elizabeth knew it, and indeed, it was rather hard to tell given the fact that the bunker walls did not have windows built in. The four of them had gotten a couple hours of sleep the night before, along with the several other members of the party who were using the bunker. But they all awoke refreshed and invigorated, ready to launch into the first phase of the plan.

Robert and Luke rolled out of their cots and staggered upstairs to round up some breakfast after brushing their teeth while Lucky and Elizabeth remained downstairs. Before long, the older men returned with food and as they all ate, Robert laid down the specifics of Elizabeth's mission, making sure to remind her every so often that she could still pull out if she wanted to. But the brunette remained firm even when she was presented with her clothes for the day, and when Robert and Luke went back upstairs to return the dishes, she and Lucky were curiously inspecting the pale garments.

"You're nervous," Luke noted, taking in Robert's tense profile with a quick sidelong glance.

"I'm not nervous," his old friend disagreed, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. "I've just…forgotten what it was like to work with more than one partner."

"You can depend on Elizabeth, you know," the Spencer patriarch informed him as he turned from the counter and made his way back to the door that led down to the bunker. "I know you don't like the idea of getting a girl involved like this, but you can depend on her. She thinks quick on her feet, and she's no stranger to this sort of thing. Man, it seems like just yesterday she and Cowboy and the Demon Spawn were running around trying to hide Dead Ted in the freezer at Kelly's…"

That remark earned him a bewildered look from the ex-commissioner. Just as he was about to inquire into the situation, Robert snapped his mouth shut and shook his head. "I don't want to know."

They strode down the narrow corridor and unlocked the hidden door with their key, making their way toward the staircase. Robert's steps were quick and agile despite his age and he periodically glanced up over his shoulder at Luke. "Overall, though, I have to admit I'm impressed with her. She didn't freeze up when I started asking her questions, she tried to help put some of the pieces together, and she didn't lose her wits when I told her she'd be going undercover-"

"I can't do this. There's no way I can do this."

The two men came to a halt at the foot of the stairs when they heard Elizabeth's voice and sure enough, there was the petite brunette pacing back and forth in front of a seated Lucky, gesturing frenetically.

"I have to be crazy if I think I can do this. What do you think?" She didn't wait for her ex to answer as she ran her fingers through her chocolate tresses, doing her best to compose herself. "Okay, I've gotta calm down. Okay, okay. Yeah, I can do this. I can do it, right? It won't be that bad, right? …What am I saying? This is completely crazy!"

Robert's shoulders slumped as he looked over at his best friend to see the man frowning sadly as his pale eyes followed the petite brunette as she paced. "Looks like I spoke too soon."

"I can't do it!"

"Then don't," Lucky suggested, bracing his hands behind him and leaning back on his cot. Both of their backs were toward the two men on the staircase, so neither saw their defeated looks.

"But I have to," Elizabeth huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and stomping her feet. "I…I feel like I need to. But…it goes against everything I know!"

"Elizabeth…"

She let out a slow sigh, closing her eyes as she ran her fingers through her hair once more. Robert was just about to step forward and tell her that it was all right and that he didn't blame her when the brunette's head snapped up as she glared determinedly at the door that led to the bathroom.

"I'm going to do it."

"But-"

Lucky didn't have a chance to get another word out as Elizabeth grabbed her small toiletries bag and quickly pulled out a pair of scissors.

"I'm going to cut my own bangs," she announced, striding resolutely toward the door and disappearing into the washroom.

The young man shrugged and lifted his legs onto the cot, sprawling back with his head on his arms before he noticed his father and Robert. "Oh, hey, Dad. Sorry, didn't see you there. Elizabeth just went to the bathroom – she'll be back in a bit."

Though he didn't look over at him, Robert could still see Luke's triumphant, beaming grin and shook his head. "Shut up, Spencer."

* * *

"You're sure they're here," Jason Morgan stated for the millionth time, looking to Johnny and Max for confirmation. His hand strayed near the revolver he kept tucked into the waistband of his jeans as he looked out the car window at the passing buildings. "I don't want to waste time looking here if she's in some other town."

"We're almost completely sure they're here," Max replied, wincing when he realized that the reply wasn't good enough. "I mean," he added hastily, squirming under Jason's lethal glare, "we heard that three Americans – an old man, a young man and a woman – came to Calvillo to see the Roberto guy. I'm guessing he's the head of the _Libertad_ party. It has to be them."

"Definitely," Sonny agreed, making sure he kept to his side of the chauffeured vehicle. After Jason's eruption upon learning of Elizabeth's near-death experience at the hands of the Cassidine Queen, he figured he'd better put as much distance between himself and his best friend as possible. "We'll find them in Calvillo; I'm sure of it." Jason didn't look at him, instead keeping his eyes trained to the passing landscape. "We'll get there, talk to her, and have her out before breakfast."

Johnny and Max nodded when Sonny directed a pointed glare in their direction. Their mission this time was crystal clear: get the girl and get out. It was Mickey Mouse stuff compared to some of the other things they'd been assigned to do, and neither man anticipated much trouble in completing the job.

Jason's breaths were slow and even as he stared rigidly out the tinted window. At this point, he could only hope that Elizabeth would listen to reason and logic and let him take her home. He had been wrong to keep Sonny's secret from her but in his defense, he had been ordered not to; Sonny, on the other hand, had been inexcusably wrong in not telling him about Elizabeth's escapades a couple summers ago. She had already let Luke Spencer con her into risking her life for his worthless son once, and he was not planning to sit idly by as he tricked her into doing it again.

This was precisely what he meant when he had asked her a few months ago not to run off trying to prove a point that no one got. She was angry and felt betrayed, and she was lashing out and acting up by following Luke down to Mexico for one of his half-baked adventures. If he just got five minutes alone with her, Jason felt cautiously hopeful that he would succeed in convincing her to abandon this quest and go back to Port Charles. She didn't belong in this crazy place, mixed up with Luke and his crazy friends. They knew nothing about this _Roberto_ character and he didn't like the idea of Elizabeth being anywhere near Luke's shady associates.

He just hoped that she'd listen and let him protect her.

* * *

"Does this look all right?" Elizabeth peered up at Luke and Lucky from under her stylish new bangs, her shoulders slumping when they shrugged helplessly. Fiddling with the cotton garment, she turned toward her newest mentor. "Robbie, what do you think? Am I wearing it right?"

Robert glanced over at a couple of the young men from the party, one of whom moved forward to show Elizabeth how to adjust her skirt. Currently, she was wearing a rectangular shaped cream-colored _sabana _that wrapped around her lower body, starting about two inches below her navel. Since it was relatively square in shape, the corners swung freely on opposite sides of her body and revealed her legs – about three inches above the knee – when she took a stride. The ends of the fabric flapped near her calves and the soft cotton molded to her backside like a second skin.

A white embroidered top met the edge of the skirt, and Elizabeth was about to strap on the three-inch orange-red belt one of the young men offered her when Robert spoke up. "Elizabeth, tie up your shirt."

She looked at him curiously and then grasped the ends of her button-down top, tying it in a small knot at her midriff. "Like this?"

The older man was nodding. "Now tie on your belt but don't let it come up higher than the skirt. Is that right?" He looked at a fair-skinned young man in his twenties for a reply, receiving one to the affirmative. "Yes, that'll do. That's how the young girls dress here. Anything else?"

One of the young men produced a simple shell necklace and handed it to Elizabeth along with a pair of gold hoop earrings. Lucky helped her secure the necklace while she donned the earrings and then stepped into her cork wedge sandals.

"Darlin', you're lookin' all kinds of cute," Luke grinned, nibbling on a thumbnail as he looked her over. "You keeping your hair up?"

She looked to Robert for his opinion and when the Australian shook his head, she undid her ponytail and let her wavy chestnut hair cascade two inches past her shoulders. "Am I ready?"

"Almost," Lucky replied, pulling a small microphone and adjoining wire from his bag. "We just have to get this on under your shirt-"

"No wire," Robert interrupted, waving at Lucky to put it away. The boy gaped at him, surprised by the command, but the detective shook his head firmly. "No girl on the inside wears a wire; it's too easy for them to be discovered. There are several safe ways for the party to communicate with its women, and Elizabeth is to be no different."

Even Luke looked worried but in the end, his trust in his old friend won out and he crossed over to Elizabeth, setting his rough hands on her shoulders. "You're going to be fine, angel. You just remember that, okay? And if at any time you get scared or want to pull out, you do that. Nothing's more important than your safety; don't try to be a hero when you should be running. Got it?"

"Got it," Elizabeth nodded firmly. "I can do this, Luke," she added, smiling smugly up at the apprehensive Spencer patriarch. "If I can cut my own bangs and make them look halfway decent, I can do anything."

That made the older man laugh as he pressed a smacking kiss to her forehead. "I'll never understand you women, darlin', but if that's what you need to tell yourself…"

Lucky still held on to the wire as if he wanted to convince Robert to let her use it after all. "You'll be fine, Elizabeth. Just remember what you have to do, and remember that you've got other people on the inside who can help you if you need them."

Her palms were beginning to get clammy but Elizabeth forced her nervousness aside. "Right. Where are my papers, just in case?"

A tall young man with a scar across his cheek handed her a brown satchel with colorful flowers embroidered on it. Looking inside, Elizabeth saw her identification card, a painted wooden comb, and a couple of miscellaneous feminine items like lipstick and hairpins. "I'm Elena Montenegro and I'm twenty-two years old. My older sister, Rosalinda, is in the Don's employ and is home sick, so I'm taking her place for a little while. Got it. I'm ready."

Robert nodded once and let out a deep breath before holding out his hand. She let him take her fingers, swallowing up her small hand in his larger one, and lead her up the stairs to the back quarters of the bar, and then out to the main bar. The sunshine was bright as it shone through the dirty windows, and though she did garner a few appreciative looks, Elizabeth was pleased to see that no one seemed to suspect the fact that she wasn't a local.

"Good girl," Robert mumbled as he released her hand and prepared to head to a dark corner of the bar before slipping safely back downstairs once more. "Show us what you've got, Elizabeth."

* * *

The morning sun beat down on their shoulders as Jason and Sonny got out of the car, followed closely by Johnny and Max. The guards kept their suit jackets unbuttoned to provide easy access to their weapons and looked around warily as they walked toward the small, dilapidated bar.

"You sure this is the place?"

Johnny had rarely seen his normally stoic and in control boss as edgy and tense as he was now. "Yeah, Jason, we're sure. This is the place that the _Libertad_ party members use as their headquarters." It had taken him and Max forever to gain that brilliant tidbit, and Johnny didn't even want to think about what would happen if Elizabeth Webber wasn't tucked away somewhere inside.

"Let's go." Jason made sure his weapon was concealed but still easily accessible as he and Sonny strode toward the dingy bar side by side. The bar wasn't congested but it wasn't empty, either; a couple men sat at the counter while many others were seated at the rickety little tables. Most of the occupants glanced up curiously at their guests, and then those curious looks gave way to suspicious, wary glares.

Johnny and Max advanced from their position at the flank, partly shielding their employers as the group filtered leisurely but purposefully past the wobbling chairs toward the lone bartender. Sonny slid onto a stool first, resisting the almost overwhelming urge to give it a quick swipe with a handkerchief first. Jason followed suit, as did Max, but Johnny remained standing at the counter.

The bartender took his time giving each man a hard look as he nonchalantly polished a shot glass. _"What'll it be?"_

"_Whiskey's fine,"_ Sonny answered smoothly, waiting patiently as the dark-haired bartender poured four glasses and slid them forward. Jason's nerves were getting the best of him but Sonny had insisted that they proceed slowly, cautiously. He waited, his body tense, as his friends downed their own glasses before pushing his forward for a refill.

The bartender raised a brow but said nothing as he refilled the four glasses, watching as the men downed them in rapid succession, one after the other. Sonny noticed his obsidian eyes dart around the room, coming to rest on specific customers as a silent message was exchanged.

Sensing his opportunity, he quietly reached for his wallet and thumbed through the contents, plucking out a few crisp American bills. Covering them with his hand, he slid them forward across the grimy counter to the bartender, who looked up in surprise when he realized how much money he was being paid.

"_For your trouble," _Sonny replied quietly, not daring to glance sideways at Jason. _"And for your help."_

The bartender squared his shoulders and set his large hands down on the counter, his coal-black eyes betraying nothing as he waited for the man in the expensive suit to speak. Around him, Sonny could feel a revived hum of energy in the room but chose to ignore it.

"_We need some information and thought you would be able to help us."_

The older man looked at him hard, narrowing his deep-set eyes, before speaking in a low, gruff voice. _"What kind of information?"_

Sonny finally looked over at Jason, who still kept his fingers wrapped around his shot glass, and sat back as his younger friend began to speak. _"We need to speak to Roberto about the three Americans," _Jason answered the man, his muscles tensing when a spark of surprise flared in the bartender's dark eyes to be followed immediately by a flicker of suspicion. _"It's very important and we-"_

"Hey!" He was interrupted with Johnny's menacing growl and when Jason turned over his shoulder, he saw that a drunk man had stumbled hard into the bodyguard's path and succeeded in partly dousing him with liquor. "John-"

That was the last word he got out before the entire bar erupted into a terrible fight. The drunk took a swing at Johnny and the alcohol must not have impaired his aim because he managed to clock the Irishman straight on the nose. Max rose to his best friend's aid in a flash but was accosted by two young men who wore matching white bandanas around their wrists.

Jason reached for his gun only to be slammed across the back with a wooden chair that splintered on impact and threw him to the ground. What followed next happened too quickly for him to recount, but he was aware of being kicked in the ribs and having his gun taken from him as Johnny and Max struggled against their attackers. Sonny, too, was having a rough time as two older men descended on him and quickly relieved him of his concealed weapon.

He heard the bartender shout that they were troublemakers and for the men to toss them out the back door. That was when he and his friends were grabbed all around by rough hands and fairly hoisted off the floor. They were dragged to the back entrance, through the door, and just as they were preparing themselves to be tossed out onto the dirt and gravel, their attackers took a sharp turn and shoved them into a narrow corridor.

Johnny's nose was bleeding and Max had a split lip and a shiner. Sonny boasted a few bruises and an extremely mussed suit, while Jason could feel the beginnings of a black eye as well. The men patted them down quickly, searching for any more concealed weapons, and Jason tried to pick up their terse commands to each other.

A young man with shoulder-length black hair and a small crescent scar just above his left eye kept a gun trained near Jason's heart as he barked at his companions. _"Search them; make sure they hide nothing."_

"_They're clean," _replied another, shoving Sonny roughly in order to make his way down to the far end of the corridor.

"_Look, this is just a misunderstanding,"_ the Cuban mafialord tried to explain only to have a tall, wiry Mexican man of about twenty-two shove him back a step.

A muscle in Jason's jaw ticked and as soon as he sensed that his captor's attention was occupied elsewhere, he struck. He had succeeded in wrenching the gun from the young man's hand and sending him crashing to the floor but as he turned on his heel, he was struck in the face with the butt of a metal revolver.

Closing his eyes against the searing pain in his nose, Jason bent forward and felt someone kick the weapon out of his hand. The next thing he knew, he was being slammed up against the rough wall with a gun pointed at his mouth. His former assailant's hard black eyes were on him as he caressed the trigger.

"_They know about Roberto and the Americanos."_

"_Do they know about the girl?" _The inquirer's question was answered when Jason's nostrils flared and he narrowed his lethal cerulean eyes.

"_What should we do? Are they to be eliminated?"_

"_No, let's take them to Roberto; he'll tell us what is to be done."_

"_Pedro, open the door!"_

Jason peered over the heads of the band of men and watched as they slid back a panel in the wall and revealed a wooden door. It was pushed open in a matter of seconds and the next thing he knew, the four of them were being pulled forward. They were thrust through the threshold, Sonny first and Jason following with the guards right behind, and the older Cuban almost lost his footing when he came across the first step.

The men all but shoved them down the wooden stairs and Jason blinked when he was hit with the bright lighting of the underlying bunker. He couldn't see much as his eyes adjusted, but the first thing he noticed was the array of cots and the other young Mexican men who were spread out loosely in the massive enclosure.

Their captors, who had clearly staged the barfight in order to remove the foursome from the bar, thrust them forward toward a small group of men, two of whom boasted golden silver hair and appeared to be the ring leaders as they quietly issued commands and directives.

"_Señor Roberto."_

Sonny wrenched his hands from his captor's grip and massaged his wrists angrily as Jason simmered with barely contained rage next to him. But the irate scowl fell from Sonny's face, giving way to shocked bewilderment when _Señor Roberto_ turned, and he found himself staring directly into the pale blue eyes of a ghost from the past.

Jason's lips parted in mute disbelief as Robert's eyes darted between the two of them, and there was no mistaking the disgust that made his lips curl into a sneer when he realized who they were and what they had come for.

"Morgan and Corinthos," he all but growled as Luke and Lucky seethed behind him. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that it was best to stay in your own neck of the woods?"


	6. 06

**Prompt: Very quickly you feel incredibly old after you leave the show. What happens is that people come in, you're thirty-one, and then all of a sudden you're forty in the blink of an eye, and then there's a cast member who's twenty-four, looking at you like you're Chevy Chase or Dan Aykroyd and shaking when they talk to you. And you go, "But I was just the new guy a second ago." Dana Carvey, _Saturday Night Live_ cast member**

(Language note: "Buenaventura" means Good Fortune; I mentioned that in a past chapter but thought I'd remind you again explicitly.)

* * *

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 06**

If wealth really was the root of all evil, Don Buenaventura was second only to Satan himself.

Standing by the large marble fountain in the center of the courtyard overlooking the estate to her right and the lush gardens to her left, Elizabeth Webber wasn't entirely sure what world she had stepped into. The confines within the perimeter of the high fortified walls was a vital, idyllic Garden of Eden compared to what lay on the outside.

The warm summer breeze rustled through her _sabana_ and she gathered the skirt closer to her petite body, still gazing around her in awe. Several young women and men scurried around her carrying on the daily affairs of the large estate. The scent of citrus and lemons lingered in the air, and the musical tinkle of the crystal blue water in the ornately carved water fountain made the petite brunette smile wistfully as she allowed herself to be escorted into a veritable fairy world.

A young boy of about seven or eight, with short-cropped hair and tailored brown britches, appeared from around the curve leading a stunning white colt that pranced daintily along the walkway. Nearby, several young women were emerging from the garden with woven baskets full of freshly cut roses to adorn the interior of the Don's mansion. An older man swept out the verandah, sending up misty clouds of dust into the dry summer air.

She was snapped out of her trance by the brush of a hand against her elbow, and Elizabeth looked over to meet the amused gaze of one of the party's women, a slender raven-haired girl of about nineteen named Magda. A soft smile curved the other girl's lips and she wrapped her fingers around Elizabeth's elbow and began to lead her toward the house.

Their sandals made no sound against the marble stairs as they ascended to the grand verandah, and Magda shared a small, familiar smile with the old man who set aside his broom and peeked out from under his _sombrero_ at them.

"This way, _hermana,_" Magda instructed, twining her fingers with Elizabeth's and tugging her into the cool foyer. Though unused to such physical contact, the brunette made no move to pull away. It had surprised her at first how the people she met in this strange part of the world showed little regard for personal space; they were all very affectionate with each other, especially the women. She had nearly jumped out of her skin the first time one of the men in the party had put his hand on her shoulder in a silent request for her to let him pass, but as she spent more time with them, she found herself getting used to the treatment.

Three young women were scrubbing the floors as Elizabeth and Magda removed their shoes and walked through the grand corridor. As they walked, Elizabeth couldn't help but gawk up at the exquisite artwork that covered the walls. Anna Devane would have made a fortune off of this house alone, she mused to herself as Magda ushered her into the massive dining room.

They cut through the expansive space, passing a behemoth of a table and at least twenty ornately carved wooden chairs with plush cushions. Then Magda turned sharply into a narrow corridor and headed for a winding staircase to the second floor. Elizabeth followed the other brunette dutifully, making sure to pay attention to the layout of the house as she did. After all, if she was going to be sneaking around the villa, she'd have to at least be sure she didn't get lost.

Magda's bare feet made no sound on the hardwood stairs as they ascended and then the two women stepped into a beautifully furnished alcove that had been turned into a lounge. Smiling coyly at a young man who appeared around the corner carrying a box of leather-bound books, Magda took Elizabeth's hand once more and led her down the wide hallway to the massive room that took up the entire far East wing.

"This is where you work, _hermana_," the young woman informed her, sweeping her hand across the threshold to indicate the massive gallery. Elizabeth had been exceedingly glad to learn from the party that since the Don's deceased niece spoke several languages with English being her favorite, the Don preferred for the young women in his employ to also speak some English. That meant that as long as she could employ a Spanish accent, she was safe from being discovered as a foreigner who didn't remember a word of the language past what Señor Guzman had taught her in tenth grade.

Magda followed her quietly as Elizabeth stepped into the gallery, gaping at the magnificent artwork held therein. There were sculptures and pottery and paintings – some of the finest that she had ever seen – and the petite brunette couldn't believe her luck. Taking it to be a sign of good fortune in the house of Good Fortune, Elizabeth rubbed her palms together and turned to face Magda with a smile.

"_Gracias_, Magda – for everything."

The girl smiled back and gave Elizabeth a quick hug before turning and scurrying back to her own station. Unable to suppress a smirk, the petite brunette reached for a clean rag and gazed around the room that she was supposed to clean and maintain. Somewhere in this house, most likely in this very room, was the same artifact that Roy Di Lucca had died trying to recover. And now she was there to pick up where he had left off.

She didn't plan on letting him down.

* * *

Anger radiated off Robert Scorpio's tall frame in palpable waves but miraculously, the ex-commissioner managed to keep his wits about him. This was already a tense situation and the arrival of Morgan and Corinthos could prove to be extremely troublesome; he knew that even without knowing why they had followed him and Luke down here in the first place.

"I…" Sonny's mouth hung open in complete bewilderment as he stared at Robert, blinking repeatedly as if to make sure he wasn't just hallucinating. "Robert? We-We thought you were-"

The detective ground his teeth together, his hands settled defensively on his hips, as he glared at the bumbling mob boss. "I'm as alive as chivalry, thank you." His cold eyes darted to meet Jason's and the older man's lips curled downward with disgust as he sized up the man that had broken his daughter's heart over an obsession with a child that wasn't even his.

But before he could say anything else, Luke Spencer was stalking forward furiously, his topaz eyes lethally narrowed at the mafia lord and his enforcer. "Fuck're you clods doing down here?"

Doing his best to shelve his shock of Robert's resurrection – after all, people came back from the dead all the time in Port Charles – Jason turned toward the older Spencer and suddenly remembered with vivid focus just what they were all doing in Mexico in the first place.

"We came to-"

"No, maybe you didn't hear me," Luke snarled, fisting his hands in Jason's shirt and glaring fiercely into his eyes. "What the _fuck _do you clods think you're doing here?"

Johnny moved forward to restrain the older man out of habit but was quickly blocked by a member of the party who simply shook his head much like one would dissuade a misbehaving child.

Jason didn't move or attempt to break way from Luke's vice-like grip, knowing that if he made any move against the old man the party would advance on him. Instead, he just stared back with cold, hard eyes.

"Just tell us one thing," Lucky scowled, his features just as tense as his father's as he stalked toward the small group clustered near the foot of the stairs. "Did you bring your tricked out Mafia Mobile?"

Sonny and Jason remained quiet and Robert prowled forward, his gray brows furrowed sternly. "How did you arrive in Calvillo?"

The Cuban glanced at Jason and then back at the ex-commissioner. "We flew into Oaxaca and drove over."

Lucky swore as Robert closed his eyes, and that was all it took for Luke to just about lose it. "Are you serious?" he half-yelled, shoving Jason away from him as he raked a hand through his thinning hair. "Those land yachts? Are you fucking _serious_?"

"Shit, shit, shit," Lucky was muttering as he sank down onto a cot. Tenting his fingers in front of his mouth, he looked solemnly up at Robert. "What do we do now? If they were seen…"

The wheels in Robert's head were turning as he tried furiously to analyze the situation. Two mobsters from New England flew into Oaxaca and then drove more than forty miles over to Calvillo, a town so small and rural that it only boasted three beat up old Chevy trucks made during the Vietnam War. Oh, yeah, they were screwed.

But Sonny and Jason didn't appear to care for any of this; after a moment of simply standing there in mute shock, both men sprang into action.

"Hey, it doesn't matter if we were seen or not," Sonny cut in as Robert turned away, trying to think. "We're here now and we came to get Elizabeth out of here. We can't let you do this, Luke."

Now the older Spencer was staring at them as if they were speaking in tongues. "Elizabeth? You came for _Elizabeth_?"

Robert snapped back to attention at the mention of the petite brunette. "What the hell do you have to do with Elizabeth? She never mentioned either of you in the time that we've been here."

Jason's eyes darkened and he scowled at the three men that seemed so willing to put the petite brunette into the line of fire. "She doesn't belong here," he replied in a strong voice, glaring at Luke in particular. "What the hell were you thinking, dragging her two thousand miles away from home on one of your goddamn missions-"

"We're not here to stop you, Luke, or whatever it is that you and Robert are doing," Sonny interjected in the smooth, level voice he always used when he was trying to negotiate or placate a partner. "We're just here to get Elizabeth back home. You can do whatever you want; we don't care. We just want her to come home with us."

Robert couldn't help but roll his eyes at that; he had only known Elizabeth for two days but even in that short time, he had learned that the petite brunette was far too feisty to be dragged home by the hair. "I'm sorry," he smiled coolly, "but Elizabeth's not here right now. Please leave a message after the beep."

"Morgan, you goddamn son of a-"

"_Beeeeeeeeep,_" Lucky supplied dutifully as his father advanced on the two mobsters again.

"You shouldn't have come here!"

"_You _shouldn't have brought Elizabeth with you!" Jason shot back, his eyes blazing as Johnny and Max exchanged nervous glances. As angry as their boss was now, they didn't even want to think about how he'd act once Luke explained where the brunette was; knowing Luke, it would _not_ be good.

"Do you know what you've done?" Luke exclaimed, his hands curled into tight fists. "Do you have any fucking idea what you've _done_?"

"Let's all calm down," Sonny suggested slowly, backing up a small step when Luke's furious gaze locked with his. "And start with the details. Luke, first off, where _is_ Elizabeth?"

The older Spencer looked as if he might explode, but quick as a flash, he regained his composure. Smoothing a hand through his unruly hair, he graced Sonny and Jason with a smile so icy that it would have frozen the Medusa. "You wanna know where Elizabeth is?"

Lucky snorted and balanced his hands on his knees, silently communicating with the party that they'd want to brace themselves for the imminent implosion.

"Where is she, Luke?" Jason growled, seething when a member of the party forced him back a couple steps.

The old man's eyes were twinkling but not with amusement. "She's undercover, trying to steal an artifact from Don Buenaventura – you know, the friendly local warlord down here."

"_What!"_ Sonny, Jason and Johnny's voices seemed to rock the very foundation of the building, and the party quickly intercepted them before they could lunge at the two men.

"You sent her to _Don Buenaventura?_ By _herself_?" Johnny O'Brien couldn't believe what he was hearing. He had always thought that Luke Spencer loved Elizabeth Webber and looked out for her, especially after Lucky's disappearance, but now he seriously doubted it. "Have you heard of the shit that guy's pulled off! He's got a collection of corpses in his basement! He shot thirty local farmers in the feet and threw them to the lions in his private menagerie as their _children_ watched!"

Sonny turned deathly pale at the information and for the first time since he had arrived in the developing country, the mob boss was _sure_ that he was going to be sick.

Jason, on the other hand, looked ready to commit homicide with his bare hands. "You sent her _where_! What the fuck were you thinking!"

"Calm down," Robert barked, slipping his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "The girl's not in any danger."

Max gaped at him, completely dumbstruck. "Not in – _not in any danger_? How can you say that? You sent her into the home of a killer to _steal _from him and you think he's just going to waltz her to the gate himself?"

Robert quirked a brow at the burly guard. "That would be the plan." Clearing his throat, he turned to look at his best friend. "You still haven't told me how these two are related to Elizabeth. What's their story?"

Luke just shrugged. "You know, I'm not too sure about that myself. Wanna explain, Morgan?" The man in question remained silent and Luke scrubbed his hands over his face. "You dumb fuck. You still don't realize what you've done."

Lucky jumped to the side just in time as Luke kicked a cot to the wall, not placated by the sight of it crashing against the cement and falling with a clatter.

"I told you," Sonny got out through clenched teeth. "We'll take Elizabeth and get out of your way. We just want her safe."

Robert let out an amused, sarcastic chuckle at the man's naiveté and turned his back on the men, content to let his old friend field this one. Naturally, Luke didn't disappoint. "You want her safe?" he asked quietly, stalking up to face Sonny until he was standing toe to toe with the short mobster. "You want her safe, huh? Well, Jocko, in coming down here, I'm almost positive you've done nothing _but_ endanger her safety."

Jason's jaw clenched and unclenched, his narrowed eyes locked on Luke's tall frame. "We-"

"-might as well have painted a bullseye on that goddamn car of yours!" Luke shot back furiously. "Do you know how I got down here with the kids, Jason? We took a ferry out of the tri-state area, took a bus further down south, and then hopped a goddamn helicopter to get across the border and to Oaxaca. Then we spent the whole night with a flock of chickens and crept into the bar using an underground tunnel. Getting the picture, fucktard?"

"Luke-"

"And you two come marching down here like Goofus and Gallant with your What-The-Fuck Guns blazing," the older man continued, "not stopping to think for a goddamn _minute_ that you're attracting unwanted attention. Enough people already know about _Roberto_ over there; they don't need to know that there are not only three but _seven_ Americans in this one-pony town. Jesus Christ!"

"All the more reason for us to get out of here fast," Sonny tried to reason, taking a step forward before one of the young men prodded him with a pistol, forcing him to back up.

"Oh, no," Luke laughed, stroking the stubble on his jaw. "No, no, no. No one's leaving. No one's going anywhere until we figure out how bad you made this. Robert?"

The detective sighed and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "First things first – where did you leave the car?"

No one spoke for a moment and Robert rolled his eyes, waving his hand at Pedro, who immediately clicked off the safety on his gun. Johnny scowled and stared menacingly back at the older man. "In the alley about a block away, by the lake."

"The car's got to go," Robert ordered. "Give Alejandro there your keys; he'll get rid of it." None of them moved. "For God's sake, I would think that the four of you realize that you are grossly outnumbered and you don't have a prayer," the former commissioner exclaimed, exasperated. "Give him the keys; you won't be seeing that car again."

Reluctantly, Johnny handed over the key after glancing at Sonny, who nodded after a moment.

"Next, you stay down here. You do not go upstairs to the bar under any circumstances. You either stay in this bunker or you go to the back quarters upstairs. You do not talk to anyone, you do not look at anyone." Sonny and Jason both opened their mouths but the young men surrounding them made sure they remained quiet. "You stay here and make no attempts to leave until you are given the okay – by myself or Luke."

He turned to his best friend wearily, letting out a troubled sigh. "What do you think?"

"I think," the other man growled slowly, glaring in Jason's direction, "that thanks to Dumb and Dumber, we should think about leaving. They've already attracted enough attention; anyone who was upstairs knows that four Americans showed up looking for you and your pals. If it reaches the Don's ears, he just might take a closer look at _Rosalinda's little sister_. And that's the last thing she needs."

Before Robert could reply, they heard footsteps on the stairs. In a moment, a young man missing a portion off the top of his right ear appeared leading the bartender that Sonny and Jason had spoken to. Both men looked tense, but not defeated.

"_Senor Roberto?"_

"Yes, Emmanuel?"

"I thought you would like to speak to Teodoro."

Robert ushered the bartender forward and the man stood with his hands on his hips near the commissioner, speaking in a low voice into his ear. Jason and Sonny exchanged looks as Robert nodded and after a long moment, slapped the man on the back and turned to his companions.

"Teo says that to the best of his estimation, there were about ten non-party members in the bar the time," he began. "And none of them seemed too surprised by the events that transpired; most likely, they thought it was a routine barfight. None of them, it appears, got a good look at the three of you, so they didn't see that you were foreigners. Still, Teo says that the party already has plans underway to cover this incident up."

"So…we might not have to clear out?" Lucky asked hesitantly, the hope evident in his voice.

Luke was listening carefully as Robert shrugged thoughtfully. "People disappear in Mexico every day, Lucky," he informed the boy. "No one questions it. No one investigates it. It's business as usual." His blue eyes strayed toward Sonny and Jason and the guards. "What are four more?"

The older Spencer was still frowning. "I don't like it; if we've been compromised thanks to those dipshits, I'm not going to stay and put Elizabeth in a position to be discovered."

"First smart thing I've ever heard you say," Jason muttered, palming his fist.

Luke glared back at the young man. "That still puts me one ahead of _you_."

"I think the best thing we can do," Robert interjected forcefully, holding his hands up and commanding every man's attention, "is to wait and see how this plays out. If we've been compromised, we'll know almost immediately from the party. If that's the case, we leave tonight. If not, we let Elizabeth do what she's doing. And that means…" His hard gaze swung to Sonny and Jason. "That you four aren't going anywhere."

Sonny opened his mouth to disagree, but Robert once again cut him off by gesturing to the massive bunker.

"Gentlemen? Pick a cot."


	7. 07

**Prompt: Double take**

**Note: **I just want to quickly thank every single person that leaves me feedback. You guys just make me so happy :). Shawna, your comment was just so flattering; I totally laughed my butt off that you mixed up the real show and this fic. That means I must be doing _something_ right. ;) And Bren – your comment about old GH meeting new GH just tickled me pink; that's exactly what I'm trying to do with the Liason situation in the same context as Tanganeva references. Good God, remember when this show was really something! Why couldn't I have been born, like, twenty years earlier?

Since I'm all caught up with the Saturday night FF prompts, it looks like we'll only get one chapter of this a week. Trust me, I'm as sad as some of you might be. :(

* * *

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 07**

Jason Morgan did _not_ like being caged. In a sense, he was just as claustrophobic as Sonny; he couldn't handle being cooped up in restrictive quarters without having any control or power over his current situation, whatever it may be.

However, whether he liked it or not, that was exactly what was happening here. He had been stuck in a massive underground bunker for hours surrounded by Luke, Robert, Lucky, and the members of the _Libertad_ party. He didn't trust any of them and he'd have sooner lodged a bullet between their eyes than be under the same roof as them.

But the rest of the men in the room couldn't care less about his displeasure. For them, it was business as usual. And to him, it made absolutely no sense. He caught tidbits about Roy and artifacts and a collaboration effort to get enough evidence on the Don to put him up for war crimes, and very little of it made sense. All he knew was that the two lunatics currently mapping out battle plan after battle plan had sent Elizabeth into the house of a dangerous warlord to steal something that Roy had been after. No one knew what it was; no one knew why Roy was stealing it. But apparently, everyone was perfectly willing to risk her life for the sake of an entirely amorphous trinket.

He braced his elbows on his knees and shared a dark look with Sonny. Johnny and Max sat on nearby cots, glaring pensively at the armed members of the _Libertad_ party who also inhabited the bunker. All four of them had been stripped of their weapons and without those shaped hunks of metal riding close to their hips, all four of them felt utterly defenseless in their current situation.

Jason raked a hand through his hair and glared at the group that clustered around Lucky, Luke and Robert. They had done everything to get out of this bunker, save assaulting the army of _Libertad_ members and forcing their way out. They had reasoned with the men; Robert had just smiled. They had yelled and raged; Robert had just chuckled. They had threatened to put two bullets between Luke's eyes as soon as they were freed; Robert had almost busted a gut laughing. There was no getting through to the eccentric old fools, and he couldn't believe that he, Jason Morgan, was cooling his heels in an underground hole while the most important woman in the world to him was risking her life, all at the command of two liver-spotted old men who probably should have been out playing shuffleboard on a cruise ship somewhere.

Lucky had just gotten up and left the small group, and Jason's turbulent blue eyes followed the young men as he strolled over to the food storage area and retrieved a water bottle before turning around and making his way to his cot. Johnny, Max, and Sonny were also staring at the boy as he took a long sip and closed his bottle, leisurely sprawling out on his cot with his arms braced under his head. Since Robert had adamantly nixed the wire, he had nothing to do while they waited for Elizabeth to return.

Max's lips were pursed together as he scowled at the younger Spencer. "How the hell could you let her do this?"

Lucky just closed his eyes, an amused smirk playing across his lips, and stretched out contentedly. He had no intention of dignifying their questions with a response. The four of them knew nothing about the Spencer family's connection to Elizabeth or vice versa; they knew nothing about the profound bond that would always exist between the family and Audrey Hardy's youngest grandchild. They were simply four bumbling, self-important men who came down like complete Neanderthals to wrap Elizabeth up in cotton and cart her back home, and they were in way over their heads.

"There was a time when you loved her," Johnny sneered her, knowing how to get a rise of the youngest Spencer. "A time when you would have given your life to keep her safe. And now, what? She's just a disposable pawn in some crazy adventure your father plotted?"

Lucky's features tensed but he remained silent.

Jason had heard enough. He rose off his cot in one smooth, fluid motion and stalked over to the young man, ignoring a member of the party that quickly followed him over to make sure nothing happened to Lucky. Sitting down on the edge of the cot right next to his, Jason stared hard at the younger man's closed eyelids, deriving a meager amount of pleasure out of the fact that the boy actually squirmed.

"This won't last, Spencer," he got out quietly, his hands curled into fists so tight that his knuckles were starting to turn white. "Because we're going to do what we came down here to do: we're going to keep Elizabeth safe. You might not care about her life, but I do."

That got a reaction from the young man – though it wasn't quite the response that Jason had anticipated. In a flash, Lucky was pushing himself up into a sitting position and bracing his elbows on his knees, his glittering topaz eyes staring hard into Jason's as the young man didn't even bother to suppress his smirk.

"You care about her, Jason?" he parroted, the very picture of innocence and wonderment. "Did you care about her when you left her locked up in a penthouse with armed guards at the door to keep her company?" The irony of the situation wasn't lost on the mobster as another member of the _Libertad _party edged closer to make sure an altercation didn't ensue. "Did you care about her when you watched your brother's wife take off her clothes for a bunch of lowlife drunks?" Sonny's dark eyes narrowed but Lucky continued before he could say anything. "Did you care about her when you lied to her and let her grieve for Sonny and for you?"

He sat back, pleased with the hardened look on Jason's face. "No. You didn't care. You didn't care about how she would feel or what she would think, or what other people would say. You didn't care that the entire town would descend on her the second she moved out of the penthouse and basically tell her every day and twice on Sundays that they were all right about you from the beginning – that she was getting herself into trouble, that she'd get hurt, that you weren't worth it. That she was wrong to always defend you to Taggert and the cops, that she was wrong to let everyone think she was your whore just to keep you safe."

Lucky spit out each word like it was venom, and Jason could feel the poison begin to spread through him.

"You didn't care about her when you had her; you still don't. If you just stopped once and thought about this, you'd realize that there's no way you could just come to Calvillo and order her home like she was a-a dog. At least my father has never once made Elizabeth feel like a second-class citizen, or spoken to her like she was a child. At least he has the common sense to appreciate her for the person she is and to recognize her talents instead of trying to lock her up like the princess in the tower. Because that's exactly what _you're_ trying to do."

Johnny bristled at the princess comment, as he had been the one most often stationed outside Elizabeth's door. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to keep her safe!"

"No, but there _is_ something wrong with putting her life on hold," Lucky shot back. "And that's exactly what you were all doing. What did she do, Jason, while you were out playing superhero? Let me guess: she was sitting on her bed or on the couch, twiddling her thumbs while she wondered if you were dead or alive, with absolutely nothing to do and nowhere to go as men with guns paced around in the hall."

With a cold grin, he lifted his hands and gestured to the bunker. "If the shoe fits, man."

Lucky's blue eyes remained trained on Jason as he reached into his duffel bag to pull out his walkman and headphones. "She's a smart, strong woman who doesn't deserve to be treated as anything less. My father wouldn't have asked her to come along if he didn't know she was fit for the job. And she wouldn't have come along if she didn't trust us to keep her safe. See, Jason, that's how our relationship with her differs from yours: we trust her, and we respect her. Until you and your gorillas can learn to do that, don't expect her to give you the time of day."

Finished, he slipped on his headphones and defiantly stretched out on his cot again, effectively dismissing the four men that continued to gape at them. Johnny was the first one to snap his mouth shut, and he, Max and Sonny all looked away quickly, not wanting to embarrass Jason. Even though Johnny knew he'd never dare to say it out loud, he agreed with the little punk. Not on the whole risking-Elizabeth's-life bit, but he did agree that the brunette had been given the short end of the stick by his employers and deserved better. But still, there had to be a better way to illustrate that to the stubborn enforcer – a way that didn't involve a sadistic warlord and a fucking third-world country.

"See, the problem is this." Robert's voice carried over from the other end of the bunker as he crossed his arms over his chest and shared grave looks with the members of the _Libertad_ party and Luke. "I'm worried that we'll be stretching ourselves too thin. We appreciate your protection and your help, but our top priority is not ousting Don Buenaventura. We're only here to see if we can locate the artifact."

"We understand that, _Señor Roberto_," Pedro insisted, glancing warily in Sonny's direction when he noticed that the four prisoners were paying attention to the conversation. "We do not expect more help from you than you have already given us. You will be leaving as soon as you find the item, no?"

Robert nodded. "Hopefully, yes. Things will become much more dangerous in Calvillo once the Don discovers the theft. That's why I believe it's the best time for the party to strike. My only regret is that neither Luke nor I will be here to assist you." A couple of the young men frowned, but Robert wasn't done. "However, I have an old…colleague who is perfect for the job. I'll place a call immediately and see what can be done."

"We appreciate that, _Señor Roberto_," Alejandro assured him. "We have been preparing for this move for a while now, and everything will be ready by the time _la paloma_ locates the artifact."

The men had taken to calling Elizabeth _la paloma_, the dove, for her fair skin and slightly skittish behavior. Another member of the party glanced at his watch and then up at his comrades. "It is almost sunset; she will be here before long. Has the passage been secured?"

Emmanuel nodded. "She knows that she is to walk to the safe house with the other girls and then cut through the garden to the tunnel entrance. If she does not arrive by dusk, we have a group ready to go out and find her."

Luke's hands were on his hip as he paced by the stairs. "She'll be here."

"She'd better be," Sonny growled, scowling when no one in the room paid attention to him. The general indifference he faced with these men was entirely disconcerting; he was a man used to being in power and being treated with respect, and he did not at all like being treated like a wet-behind-the-ears pup. Luke and Robert may have been an unbeatable combination in the past, but the two were rapidly losing their edge. They were just too foolish and stubborn to realize it.

The minutes dragged on and Jason grew increasingly anxious. Johnny and Max sneaked sympathetic glances at him as he paced back and forth, muttering obscenities and death threats under his breath. Robert regarded the younger man with a mixture of skeptical curiosity and blatant mistrust, but made no move to acknowledge him beyond that. Luke had explained to him that Elizabeth had been friends with the mobster since Robin had left Port Charles and that he had helped her deal with Lucky's death. Over the years, that relationship had changed and Jason had attempted to woo the brunette away from Lucky only to be rejected when the young woman stood firm. Personally, he admired that; it wasn't every day, as he had heard, that a woman put Sonny or Jason in their place by reminding them that they couldn't have anything they wanted. So Jason had left town and come back a year later when Elizabeth had finally called things off with the younger Spencer. They had been involved in some sort of relationship, to the best of Robert's knowledge, but then Sonny had faked his death and Jason had neglected to mention that, causing Elizabeth to storm out of his home and turn her back to him. And that was where they were now.

The former commissioner scrubbed a hand over his jaw and turned toward the stairs. He wasn't looking forward to the 'reunion'. They had enough problems without adding a healthy dose of teenage angst to the mix. And besides that, Elizabeth was already involved in a precarious and delicate situation; a distraction of any sort wouldn't do at all.

While the rest of the men in the bunker went about their business as usual, Sonny and his three companions kept glancing at their watches in anticipation of Elizabeth's safe return. They had tried to no avail to reason with Luke and Robert and figured that they at least stood a chance to convince Elizabeth to abandon the mission and return home on the Corinthos jet.

The sun continued its lazy descent and as the light waned outside, Jason's anxiety increased tenfold. He prowled the perimeter of the bunker like a caged animal, seething with worry and fury as he waited. Lucky continued to doze on his cot; Robert and Luke still conversed with the party about the anticipated strike; Johnny and Max sat silently on their cots like prisoners while Sonny did his best to remind himself that he had no reason to succumb to an anxiety attack because the bunker was a massive enclosure and not a tiny jail cell.

Eventually, they heard steps on the stairs and looked up to see Emmanuel, the young man from earlier who was missing a portion of his right ear, come hurrying down into the bunker. "We have received word that the women are all safe at home for the evening, and _la paloma _should be in the tunnel _ahora_."

Luke let out a relieved sigh and nodded, stuffing his hands in his pocket. The voluntary captivity in the bunker was driving him crazy, but he reminded himself that it was all about discipline and knowing what was best. He was more useful in here than he would be out there, and there was no way he was going to jeopardize the mission just because he was a little stir-crazy.

In the next few minutes, the bunker descended into tense silence. Most of the party members had gone upstairs and Luke and Robert – both armed – remained clustered together with a few of the other men. Presently, there came a practiced, deliberate knock at the door followed by two taps and another knock.

Lucky shot up off the couch as Emmanuel moved to open the door as the guards from the outside could be heard unlocking it. Jason strained to see past the burly natives and an audible sigh of relief could be heard when Elizabeth's petite form slipped out from behind the two barrel-chested guards and Emmanuel.

He was still seated numbly on his cot when Robert and Luke practically pounced on her. "There you are," Robert got out as Luke enveloped the petite brunette in a bear hug. "You all right, Elizabeth?"

The brunette nodded, laughing as Luke swung her around finally released her. Impulsively, Robert wrapped his arm around her narrow shoulders and pulled her against his side in an awkward hug as Lucky joined the group.

"I'm fine," Elizabeth replied, having not yet seen her four new houseguests. "Sorry I was late; I was picking grapes and then had to share some with the Don's guards."

Lucky was looking at her as if she had sprouted a second head. "Why the hell were you picking grapes?"

The brunette quirked a slender brow at him as she untied a portion of her roomy _sabana_, revealing a pocket of purple grapes. "Because the Don allows the girls to pick any of the fruit or flowers they want and take them home. Besides," she added, popping a few into her mouth and handing the rest over to a smirking Robert. "When it comes time to sneak something_ else_ out of the house, it'll be easier and less suspicious. So, anything interesting happen while I was gone?"

"The man who worked closely with Roy finally made it back to Calvillo from his hideout in the next town," Robert answered, his hands on his hips, "and he'll have some information that will help you as you search the house. Also…Luke?"

"Darlin', we had a little break-in while you were out being the girl on the raisin box," the Spencer patriarch got out reluctantly, tipping his chin in the direction of the newest additions to their band. "Nothing to be too scared about – just some meddling kids and their talking dog."

His attempt at humor did little to alleviate the panic that took over at the news, and Elizabeth instantly whipped around, stunned when her sapphire eyes locked with Jason's cerulean ones. Time stood still as the two stared at each other, neither moving and both of them barely breathing.

Robert's guarded eyes studied Elizabeth carefully as the brunette finally closed her eyes, the full weight of the reality of Jason's presence falling on her shoulders like a ton of bricks. Without a word to the newcomers, she slowly turned on her heel and peeked out at Robert from under her bangs.

"Does this jeopardize the plan?" she asked meekly, wringing her hands together and trying not to show how much Jason's arrival rocked her.

Robert recognized the worry in her quiet, apologetic voice and quickly moved to reassure her. Jason and Sonny's eyes narrowed as the older detective came to her side and gave her shoulders a reassuring, familiar – even fatherly – squeeze. "First off, doll, this isn't your fault. And no, I don't believe it does. We've been hearing reports filter in all day and from what I can tell, we're going to be just fine."

She nodded numbly, meeting Jason and Sonny's eyes once more. She didn't know what to say to them. In fact, she didn't _want_ to say anything to them. Both of the men seemed to share her apprehension; where they had been bursting with energy and anger all day, eagerly anticipating the chance to seize hold of the petite brunette, now they both appeared tongue-tied. She had no doubt that it was an extremely out of body experience for them; neither Sonny nor Jason had ever seen her in true Lizzie mode. And that was what she had reverted to the minute she left Port Charles. She couldn't be sweet, compassionate, understanding Elizabeth anymore; she needed to be the take-no-shit, take-no-prisoners, kick-ass Lizzie if she hoped to keep up with the likes of Robert Scorpio and Luke Spencer. And she wasn't the least surprised that the transformation surprised both mobsters.

For Jason, her physical transformation was as surprising as her emotional one. His shocked cerulean orbs roamed her petite, nymph-like body without regard for anything else going on in the bunker at the moment. The slim brunette was wearing three-inch high cork sandals with straps that tied around her slender ankles. Her hair was down in waves and her bangs swept diagonally across her forehead and partly shielded her expressive sapphire orbs from view. Her cotton top was tied just under her modest breasts and clung to her dewy skin, and the taut skin of her stomach finally disappeared under a brightly colored silk belt two inches below her navel. A slim-fitting cotton skirt wrapped around her legs, baring a considerable amount of her creamy thighs when she moved, and Jason simply couldn't stop staring. A week ago, she had been wearing a floor-length denim skirt and purple full-sleeved top as they played pool in his penthouse; today, she was dressed in traditional Mexican clothing and standing in an underground bunker with the nerve to look like he was unfairly imposing on her affairs.

Unable to ignore the soft spot he had for the petite brunette, Johnny O'Brien was the first one to speak up as he slowly closed the distance between the two of them. "Elizabeth…" He gazed kindly down into her dark blue eyes, tilting his head when she looked away. "Come on. What are you doing?"

Robert bristled at the patronizing tone but Luke's hand on his shoulder stopped him from saying anything. In front of him, Elizabeth lifted her chin defiantly and stared back up at her favorite bodyguard. "I think you know exactly what I'm doing, Johnny. The real question is, what are you four doing down here?"

Max squared his jaw at her indignant inquiry, waiting silently as Sonny slowly prowled forward in full negotiator-mode. "Elizabeth."

Her sapphire eyes were hard when they landed on him, but Sonny did his best to pretend not to notice. "We're here to take you home."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and looked over her shoulder to see Luke and Robert doing the same. "See, Robbie?" she sighed, tipping her head in Sonny's direction. "_This_ is what I deal with."

"I don't envy you, doll," was all her newest mentor said as she turned back to the foursome.

"Well, you wasted a trip, not to mention possibly endangering our safety," the brunette replied flippantly. "Because I'm not going _anywhere_ with you."

Max could keep quiet no longer. "Miss Webber, please, come on, be reasonable. We're not here to cause any trouble for…your friends. We just don't want to see you get hurt. And apparently, we're the only ones."

Elizabeth's sapphire eyes blazed when he glared at Luke and Lucky. "Leave it alone, Max, would you?"

"They willingly placed you in the line of fire," the bodyguard insisted, trying to reason with the stubborn little woman. "Luke doesn't care about anything but his crazy plan."

"You know _nothing_ about what goes on in my family, Porky," the man in question growled, his tone clearly indicating that he considered Elizabeth nothing less than his own kin. "So why don't you take your assumptions and stick them up your-"

"I get what you're saying, Max," Elizabeth cut in smoothly, folding her hands across her chest without realizing how the movement emphasized the swell of her breasts. "But you're wrong. You were all wrong in coming down here, you're wrong in what you're thinking about Luke, and you're wrong in believing that I'm going to pack up and leave with you. You never should have come down here."

"Here, here," Robert murmured behind her.

"Elizabeth, we-"

"Save it, Sonny," she growled, pressing her fingers to her temples. "I'm not in any mood for this. I'm so _sick_ of people thinking that they can just barge into my life whenever its convenient for _them_, and order me around like I was still four years old. Up until a few weeks ago, I never would have grouped you in with those people, Sonny." Her eyes were hard and cold, and Elizabeth did her best to keep tears of frustration out of her voice. "There was a time when I really liked you and thought you were an honorable person. But somewhere along the line, you changed – I must have just blinked and missed it."

Jason winced as she claimed a step toward his boss, her finger raised and pointed toward his chest as she spoke in a low, quiet voice full of strength and conviction. "I don't work for you. I don't take orders from you. I don't jump if you jump, Jack. And I sure as hell don't care about what you think anymore. I am here because it's _my _choice. I am here because Luke wanted me here. I'm here because I trust him and Robbie to keep me safe." She didn't notice the confused look that crossed the men's faces at her affectionate name for the former commissioner. "And I'm not leaving until I get my job done."

Finished, she stepped back and let out a tremulous sigh when she felt Robert's presence next to her. His hand on her shoulder was the only thing that kept her from bursting into tears and revealing her weakness to the foursome. Gently, he patted her back and spoke to her in a comforting, soothing voice. "Come on, Elizabeth, you've earned a stiff one after today. Let's go upstairs, doll."

She retreated a step but before she could turn around, Jason closed the distance between them. Elizabeth tried her best not to look at him, but the battle was over before she even began to fight it. Dressed in his worn blue jeans and a wrinkled t-shirt, her ex showed definite signs of anxiety and unease. A few days ago, she would have cared and…fixed him a sandwich or something before falling asleep on his couch. But now, it didn't matter to her one way or the other. In fact, she felt a strange twinge of satisfaction at his disheveled appearance; it was about time he learned what it felt like to sit around and worry about someone he cared about without being able to do something about it.

"Elizabeth, please." His voice was low and rough, the kind he only used with her and the brunette mentally closed herself off from being affected by it. "Can we talk about this? We just want to keep you safe and-"

"Stop, Jason," she bit out, holding up her hand and already sidling closer to Robert's side, accepting the reassurance he silently offered. "It's a bit late to pretend you suddenly care."

With that, she turned and let Robert lead her up the stairs to the bar, making sure to walk with her chin held up high before she let the first tear escape.


	8. 08

**Prompt: Send in the clowns.**

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 08**

"Drink this."

Elizabeth stared at Robert's back as the older man fixed her a drink, swallowing to clear her voice of tears. "Will it make the four neanderthals downstairs disappear?"

"No," the Australian replied, trying to sound sympathetic while suppressing a chuckle. "But it _will_ make you forget they're here for a little while."

He turned and set a glass of yellow liquid down on the rickety table, watching as the brunette lifted it to her nose and sniffed. "What's in here?"

"Lemonade and vodka," Robert replied cheerfully, sliding into the chair directly across from her and tapping his nails on the table as she took a long sip. "I guessed that you're not much for bourbon or scotch."

"Or tequila," Elizabeth agreed, taking another gulp of the fiery liquid and smacking her lips. "Thank you, Robbie."

"Not a problem, doll," he replied easily, propping his chin in his hand. A somewhat uncomfortable silence stretched out between the older man and the young woman before Robert finally broke it by asking a question that had long since been on his mind and had only been partially answered. "But would you mind telling me just _what_ those four are doing here?"

The little woman surprised him by snorting. "Rescuing the damsel from the dragon."

"Come again?"

She sighed heavily and tipped her head back, finishing off her lemonade and motioning for another one. "They think they're here to get me away from Crazy Old Luke and his half-baked schemes. They don't trust him, and they're delusional enough to think I give a damn about what they think."

"Do _you_ trust Luke?" Robert couldn't help asking.

Elizabeth raised a slender brow as one of the young men set her drink in front of her. "Why would I be here if I didn't?"

"Do you trust him completely, though?" the older man persisted, leaning forward toward her. "When you came down here, you had no idea that we'd send you into the house of a warlord. It's a dangerous mission, Elizabeth, and there are a million ways it can go wrong. Do you really trust Luke that much?"

"I trust _both_ of you that much," she replied, her eyes hard and her voice low. "And I really don't feel like having something go wrong that proves to Sonny and Jason that they were right."

"And that's why we're here – to make sure that doesn't happen," Robert responded immediately, leaning back in his seat. It seemed like the young woman in front of him was forever finding new ways to impress him. Luke hadn't done her credit when he said she was a good kid that they could trust to help them. Elizabeth Webber was something else, and he hated that she was putting her life on the line for them and being attacked for it. "We're going to do our best to help you find the artifact as soon as you possibly can, and then we're clearing out. You won't have to deal with this little town or that bunker or those four down there again."

She laughed, a dry, hollow sound, and shook her head. "No, I don't buy that. I'll always have to deal with them as long as I'm in Port Charles. You remember it, Robbie – it's a tiny hole in the ground. You can't escape anyone. And I will always have to deal with Sonny and Jason charging into my life, thinking that they know what's best for me."

He watched her shake her head again and stare past his shoulder at a mess of squirming calico kittens by the corner of the bar. "You know, it's really amazing. It's just really fucking amazing. I can't get him to even stay home for two hours at a time and the minute I leave, he's following me like a fucking bloodhound. I don't know whether to be pissed off or flattered…I think I'll go with the pissed off deal."

"You and Morgan were…involved, then?"

Again, she snorted. "You mean you didn't hear all about it? No, we weren't involved, Robbie – you'll be happy to hear that. He decided that after telling me that he wanted to try to make things work, it would be a really great idea to never be at home and to lie to me about Sonny's death. He had me _grieving_ for the man. I cleaned Carly's penthouse and cut bell peppers for her! I hate bell peppers! I hate _Carly_!"

"With just cause, I'm sure," the ex-commissioner replied wryly, remembering Caroline Benson's role in his own daughter's unhappy relationship with Jason Morgan. "You don't seem like you'd hate anyone without a reason."

That earned a smirk from the little brunette, and she eyed him with considerable amusement as she sipped her drink. "You'd better be careful, Robbie. Don't go there."

"Don't go where?"

"Don't try to build me up as the perfect, compassionate town sweetheart; the little angel. I'm not perfect, I'm not sweet, I mess up, I do things I'm not proud of, and I'm _nobody's_ angel."

A slow smirk curled his lips and Robert toyed with his own scotch, his pale blue eyes twinkling with mirth. "I'll keep that in mind, Elizabeth."

Another silence lingered between them, and the former commissioner sipped his drink and let his thoughts wander to the matters at hand. They still had to get Elizabeth's report on what she found inside, but since it was her first day and she didn't even know what she was looking for, it wasn't particularly urgent. What he needed to get on right away was making sure that the brunette met with the man who had worked with Roy closely and just returned to Calvillo from his hideout in the next town. He would have the best idea out of anyone as to what Roy was after, and that information would be invaluable to Elizabeth. They'd be able to retrieve the artifact and that would be their cue to leave town. His colleague from the WSB would most likely be present at that time and would be ready to assist the party in the final strike that would remove the Don from power. After that, he and Luke would see Lucky and Elizabeth safely home and would then continue on with their plan to learn as much about the artifact as they could and to figure out why Roy had been willing to risk his life for it.

But as he thought, his thoughts inevitably led him back to the miserable brunette seated across from him. In the past couple of days, he had done his best not to scare her. He wanted to be honest with her about what she was up against, but there was no sense in frightening the poor girl. But there was so much riding on her shoulders; more than he had expected when he first told Luke to come down to Mexico to join him. Roy's determination to seize the artifact, whatever it was, was troubling in itself, and Robert hated not having all the pieces. Why would their old friend pick a remote town in central Mexico in which to go treasure hunting? What made the artifact so important? How did the Don come to possess it?

Those were the questions that troubled him; even more troubling was the realization that Elizabeth would be the one to grapple with those problems first hand. So far, they had no reason to believe that any one else knew of the artifact; it was of no use to the party and there had never been any previous attempts made on it. But Robert couldn't help but feel like he was sitting on a pressure cooker, waiting for the inevitable explosion that simmered so close to the surface. Something larger was going on here, and Elizabeth was the only one who could get the answers.

And instead of being focused on the task at hand, the poor girl was distracted, frustrated, and wretchedly miserable.

"I'm sorry you, uh, had to see all that downstairs," she got out quietly, breaking the silence. She refused to look him in the eye and continued to play with her napkin instead. "I didn't mean to fly off the handle like that and force you to step in but…I just didn't think seeing him would affect me as much as it did."

"Stop right there, Elizabeth," Robert responded in a voice just as quiet as hers in the buzzing back quarters. "First of all, you have nothing to apologize for. You didn't invite those men and you exercise as much control over their decisions as Luke or I do. And I think, given the situation, your reaction was perfectly understandable. No one expected you to brush off their arrival and get on with business. You're no robot. You're allowed to be upset."

"But I'm not allowed to be distracted," she insisted, still evading his gaze by looking at the bar. The dim light made the liquid emotion pooling in her eyes shimmer, and Robert could tell the young woman was embarrassed of her tears. "I…I tried so hard to just walk away and pretend like…pretend like I didn't care. About anything. I don't want to put you or Luke or myself in danger, but I just don't know how…how are we going to do this?"

For the first time since she began her rambling, the brunette lifted her expressive sapphire orbs to meet his. "How are we going to stay with them in that…that_ bunker_ and keep on doing this? They're going to fight me every step of the way, and I can't-Robbie, I'm sorry, I can't deal with that. And I don't know what to do."

"You let us worry about that, darlin'."

Elizabeth looked up, swiping furiously at her tears when she heard Luke's voice. He and Lucky appeared at her side, and the brunette sniffed quietly when her ex-boyfriend squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.

"We'll handle them, Elizabeth," Lucky assured her quietly, confidently. "If you don't want to talk to them, you don't have to. You let me and Dad worry about them, okay? You just do what you gotta do."

"Forget those gorillas," Luke agreed. "You let me put them in their place. They're just two wet-behind-the-ears sprats who have no idea what they got themselves mixed up in. You can't run with the big dogs if you piss like a puppy."

Elizabeth chuckled at that and played with her drink. "Did…did they say anything, Luke?"

"After you handed them their asses on a platter, you mean?" The older Spencer's pale topaz eyes were glittering with glee. "What was there left to say?"

"Nothing," the brunette sighed sadly, making Robert frown. "There's nothing left to say any more."

The detective watched her swallow roughly past the lump in her throat, and couldn't quite get past a sudden surge of protectiveness. "Elizabeth, take this as you will, but you're better off without him." She looked up sharply, and if Robert didn't know better, he'd have sworn that she looked wounded. "That man doesn't know how to treat women – he destroys them. And no one at this table wants to see you destroyed because of him."

Lucky glanced at his ex-girlfriend, watching as she lowered her gaze and nibbled on her bottom lip. The whole idea of her relationship with Jason was still salt rubbed into an old wound for him. He knew he hadn't been perfect or even good in the later portion of his relationship with Elizabeth; he knew that he had messed up and hurt her and validated long-time insecurities of hers, and that was something he would have to live with.

But that didn't stop him from mentally envisioning horrible death scenarios for a certain mobster downstairs. Jason had wreaked his own unique brand of hell on Elizabeth, and the worst part was that he didn't even seem to realize it. He had destroyed the brunette's image of him: the confidante, the protector, the rock in the stormy, turbulent sea of life. He had lied to her and shut her out, and Lucky could only imagine how lost and alone Elizabeth felt.

But sure enough, Luke Spencer was always ready to step in with one particular gem of wisdom or another. "You know what, darlin'? You just let that oaf cool his heels downstairs while you kick ass, okay? It'll be a great way to stick it to him."

"I'm not doing this to prove a point, Luke," the brunette bristled, crossing her arms over her chest. "Why does everyone assume that I'm doing this for attention or to prove-"

"Okay, okay, darlin', you're right," the older man soothed, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Tell you what - You forget those guys exist and you pretend like it's just like it was. You ready to give us the skinny on what you saw today?"

"I'm going to need another one of these," the brunette replied dryly, lifting her empty glass.

Robert chuckled and took it from her, rising from his seat. "I could use another myself. Hold on a minute, will you, Elizabeth? Let me call Timoteo over; he'll have some useful information for you."

The brunette nodded and waited as the detective refreshed their drinks and beckoned a short, wiry dark-skinned man over to the table. "This is Timoteo," he introduced the man, motioning for him to pull up a chair. "He worked with Roy and he has some information on the artifact."

"Any help you can provide would be amazing," Elizabeth told the man, doing her best not to stare at the white scar that spanned the area where his left eye used to be. "I have very little to go on."

"Why don't we start with what you saw," Robert suggested. "We know that the artifact is a piece of art – a sculpture, perhaps – and that was why you were placed in the gallery. What did you see there? Anything that caught your eye?"

"My first thought was-"

Elizabeth's reply was cut off by the scraping sound of boots against wood, and she looked over to see that four very displeased and granite-faced men had emerged from the bunker, accompanied by Emmanuel and a couple of the other members of the party. Sonny led the way and took up a seat at the table right next to Elizabeth's; she assumed he did so to intimidate her. The man in the expensive and ripped Italian suit was bent on making this as difficult as possible for her, Elizabeth felt, but she wasn't going to bite.

"Well, send in the clowns," Luke muttered as he and Robert glared at Jason and Sonny, only to have them glare back. "Ass-clowns, that is."

Elizabeth and Lucky pretended not to hear the barb and chose to ignore the newcomers completely. Doing her best to force the quiver from her voice, the brunette focused her attention back on Robert, finding the imposing Australian one of the more solid and reassuring figures in their company.

"My first thought was that the artifact would be a sculpture," she started, trying not to squirm under the weight of Sonny and Jason's eyes. "I still think that. My first instinct, then, was to check the paintings that the Don had up in the gallery and see if I couldn't find any correlation between them and the sculptures in his possession."

"Smart," Robert nodded. "And?"

"The first thing I noticed was that the vast majority of the paintings featured Saint Francis of Assisi," she replied. "There were only two sculptures of him, though, in the entire gallery, and they were both quite large. I checked them as best as I could; they weren't hollow, nor were they any type of control switches or anything like that. Then I went back to the largest painting in the room – it's displayed most prominently and catches the first rays of the sun in the morning from one side of the room, and it catches the last rays of the sun in the evening from the other. St. Francis is in that painting with his arms outstretched, and the Don owns a small statue of Jesus in the same position. I checked that statue and found writing on the mantle and a key taped to the bottom."

There was a brief pulse of deathly silence before all the men fairly pounced on her.

"A key?"

"Did you try it out? Find out what it leads to?"

"You didn't try to recover the statue, did you?"

"What language was the writing in?"

Elizabeth shook her head until they quieted down. She had heard Sonny and Jason add their voices to the melee but wasn't about to acknowledge them any time soon. "I was going to take the key out, but I was interrupted by the librarian. He's not a member of the party, is he?" Her shoulders slumped when Emmanuel shook his head. "I didn't think so. That means he's a loyal staff member. I pretended like I was dusting and polishing, and I think he bought it. He did give me a funny look, though, before he left. I didn't try anything after that and twenty minutes later, it was time to leave."

"It's good that you held yourself back," Robert assured her. "You don't want to make any waves or be a cause for suspicion. Pace yourself, and move quietly."

"And stay out of that librarian guy's sight," Luke added. "If you think he's trouble, I mean. Don't try to befriend him or get on his good side. Just try to be invisible."

Elizabeth nodded. "I just wish there was some way to know if I'm on the right track. I'm going on next to nothing here – even though I do know about the key, now. I'm going to try to find out what that key's for tomorrow."

"You can't be serious," Sonny growled, gripping the edge of his table tightly. "There's no way that you can walk back into that house and-"

"Darlin', let's see what Tiny Tim can tell us," Luke interrupted loudly, gesturing to the silent Mexican man who sat next to Robert. "What have you got?"

"All I know," the man started, speaking in broken English with a thick accent. "Is that Roy knew the artifact had writing on it in another language – not _español o ingles_. He, too, was operating on the theory that it was a small statue, but had found very little to support that and was beginning to think it was something else. However, we do know that whatever it was, it is red."

Elizabeth's brow furrowed. "Red?"

"The color of blood, _paloma_," Timoteo answered grimly.

"Does the statue fit the description, darlin'?"

The brunette shook her head sadly. "No – it was gray with white etchings. Red, huh? I don't remember seeing anything red in the gallery…"

"A vase, perhaps? A piece of pottery?" Robert suggested, his fingers tightening around his glass.

"Nothing," Elizabeth replied, propping her chin in her hand. "But…there _was_ this one painting that was done almost entirely in varying shades of red. I didn't check the walls behind any of the artwork today – maybe there's a hidden safe somewhere? Or some compartment that the key could unlock? Dammit! I wish I could get back in there."

"In due time," Robert assured her. "Don't rush this, Elizabeth. Don't be over-eager; that's when mistakes are made. Take your time, be invisible, be methodic. Always have an escape plan or an alibi. Just take your time, doll."

It was the most ridiculous thing Jason had ever heard. "Take her time? You want her to _take her time_ in the house of the most dangerous warlord in central Mexico? She's a sitting duck!"

"Morgan, you need to-"

"No," the enforcer shot back instantly, standing from his seat. "I don't need to do anything! You're risking her life for something that no one can even describe! And you're telling her to take it slow? For what? So that one of the Don's men can catch on to her and ambush her while she's alone in that house and all of us are rotting in here?"

"You have no say in this," Robert retorted fiercely, holding his half-full glass of scotch so tightly in his hands that it was a wonder it didn't crack. "You sit there and you keep quiet and you let us work this case."

"What if she were Robin?" A deathly silence descended in the room as Jason stared lethally at the ex-commissioner. "What if she was Robin, huh? Would you be this quick to risk her life?"

"You do _not_ want to talk to me about my daughter!" The rickety wooden chair fell with a clatter as the detective shot out of his seat, glaring daggers at the mobster. "You do not want to even go there, Morgan."

Forever the negotiator, Sonny tried to intervene. "Robert, look-"

"Corinthos, I'd sooner shoot you than look at you," the Australian fired back, silencing the mobster immediately. "I'll tell you both what you can do – you can sit your ass down on that chair and shut that goddamn hole in your face before you're pumped full of slugs. How about that?"

Luke gulped down his scotch, watching as Robert retrieved his chair and slowly sat down once more. "I feel so at home," he smiled happily.


	9. 09

Prompt: Staring down the barrel of a .45 

**Note:** I know I'm being rough on Sonny and Jason right now, but this too shall pass. Just have some faith in me, okay? If you promise not to tell, I'll spill a little secret…I'm a closet Sason fan. :-P

Thanks to Izzie for getting me great WireImage/Medianet pics for my banners! You rock hardcore, man.

Also, this is quite possibly my favorite chapter yet. I know everyone is waiting for the Liason talk and trust me, it's coming, but it can't be immediate. Keep in mind that it's been about a week since Sonny came back from the dead. (You can count the days – 8 in total.)

* * *

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 09**

"I need paper and a pencil!"

Jason sat up on his cot as Elizabeth thundered down the stairs, her thick wavy chestnut locks and pale pink _sabana_ flying behind her. Today was her third day in the house of Don Buenaventura, and he hoped that it would be her last, even though he knew it wasn't likely. He and Sonny, not to mention the guards, had done their best to dissuade her from going yesterday morning and again today, but the brunette just hadn't paid any attention to them. He didn'tadhad;flja;dflkja;ldfja;lsdfjl;adskjfa;sldfkja;sldfkssl;kjadfHe didn't understand her warped loyalty to Luke Spencer, and understood her devotion to Robert Scorpio even less, but there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He and Sonny had agreed, therefore, that as long as Elizabeth was in this situation, they'd do whatever they could to help her, even if it meant cooperating with two senile sexagenarians.

His personal situation with Elizabeth, however, was less hopeful. She held him at arms' length and did her best to avoid him even in the restrictive quarters. She stayed quiet when he tried to talk to her and often walked away before he was done; she pretended to be asleep at night when he knew very well that she was still operating on the adrenaline rush from the day's work; she retreated into the safe company of Lucky and Robert, knowing that Jason wouldn't try to follow her.

"What's going on?" The detective was already pulling out a large sheet of coarse white paper and reaching for the pen he always kept in his shirt pocket. "Elizabeth? Did you find something?"

"Yes!" Her eyes were glowing as she snatched the paper and pen from him and hurried over to the massive desk where the party planned their raids. "Not the artifact itself, but I'm so close. I just know it!"

Jason and Sonny followed Luke and Lucky toward the table where Robert was looking over Elizabeth's shoulder as the brunette scrawled frenetically on the paper, pausing every once in a while to jot down some numbers denoting distance measured in paces.

The enforcer squinted at the drawing, silently moving closer to the edge of the table to allow two members of the party to peer down at the work as well. Slowly, several rectangles came into view as Elizabeth continued to draw, trying to capture the mental image she had drawn in her mind earlier that day.

"Okay," she murmured, jotting down a few more numbers and making a couple squiggly arrows. "I've got it."

"Yes, but what _is_ it?" Robert wondered, tilting his head to try to discern what she had drawn.

"A floor plan," the brunette grinned wickedly, pushing the map into the center of the table so that everyone could get a better look at it. "I'm telling you, the Don is a freaking genius."

Emmanuel tapped the largest box that Elizabeth had drawn on the sheet. "This is the stateroom that leads down to the chapel."

"Yes."

"But what is this? There's no room here."

The young woman smirked enigmatically and used her pen to draw a quick direction coordinate in the corner. "Actually, there is. You enter the stateroom through the west entrance, and leave through a corridor on the east wall to get to his private chapel. The chapel opens into the courtyard on the east side and overlooks the orchards on the south end. Right?"

"That is correct, _paloma._ But I know for a fact that there is no room where you have drawn it."

Her sapphire orbs glittered as Elizabeth bent over the map, poring over it like a military general as she informed and organized her troops. "There is a large painting of _corpus Christi_ on the north wall of the chapel, right by the altar. It takes up almost all the room from the floor to the ceiling. It depicts Christ in the same position as the statue I found in the gallery, with the key underneath."

"Holy living fuck, darlin'," Luke got out as he stared at the hastily drawn floor plan. "What the hell did you dig up?"

"The space behind the painting is hollow, Luke," she smiled back, her sapphire eyes glittering in triumph. "I thought I should hold off trying to break in, but there was no one in the entire wing of the house, and I figured I might not get the same chance again tomorrow."

Robert was nodding his approval as she pointed to the map again. "The painting can be moved enough to access the panel behind it. There's a little button on the back of the frame that makes it slide open – it took me forever to figure that out. You know those papers I found in that safe in the gallery? The one that was opened with the Jesus key?"

The members of the party nodded.

"You remember all the stuff that I told you those papers were about? Ancient sculptures, jewelry, and works of art that were passed down from generation to generation here until the Don's grandfather seized them?" Elizabeth paused for a moment, meeting Emmanuel's solemn black eyes. "All of those artifacts are in the secret room behind Zurbaran's _Corpus Christi_. There is _definitely_ money in _that_ temple."

An oppressive silence followed in which no one in the entire room even dared to breathe, and then the bunker exploded with noise and exultation. The members of the party crowded around the map, trying to get a better look as they conversed excitedly about what this meant. Several of the men suddenly found themselves tearing up; many of the artifacts that had been seized were precious family heirlooms that belonged to their forefathers, and everyone had believed that the items had been destroyed or sold to the highest bidder. To realize that there was a good chance that every stolen item lay behind a painting of the Lord came as a tremendous relief and cause for celebration.

"That's my girl!" Luke whooped, clapping his hands with excitement. "You did it, darlin'!"

"Brilliant!" Robert Scorpio indulged in a rare, ear-to-ear grin as he impulsively pulled the brunette into a hug. "You brilliant girl!"

"This calls for celebration," Lucky announced. "Come on – Emmanuel, Alex, let's get some booze!"

"Do you know what this means?" The commissioner was running his hands through his hair, doing his best to process the remarkable discovery. "We're _this_ much closer to finding what Roy was after. We'll have to figure out a way to get you back in the private chapel again, Elizabeth. If we could just-"

"I've got that covered," she replied, moving aside as Lucky and a couple of the men brought out the drinks and glasses. "That's why I'm late today – I made sure that the Don and a couple of his top guards caught me at various times during the day, praying in the chapel like a good little Catholic girl. He personally asked me to polish the wooden pews tomorrow. I'm good to go, Robbie."

It was almost too much for the detective to bear, and he threaded his fingers through her chocolate hair and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. The young woman found new ways to surprise him every single day, and he was almost afraid that he wouldn't be able to handle any more. Not only was she every bit as trustworthy as Luke said – the girl was brilliant. She was forever anticipating and adapting and keeping one step ahead of the situation, and it had been a long time since he had worked with such a talented young person.

"You're not just good, doll," he told her, squeezing her hand tightly and grinning at Luke as the other man wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Lucky had already gotten the drinks and passed around glasses of amber liquid to the three of them as well as Sonny and Jason, who were still standing dumbly by the desk. The Australian clinked his glass with the girl's and then with his old partner's. "You're the greatest."

* * *

She was on her second glass of Scorpio's Special Lemonade and her third _chalupa_ when her eyes fell on Sonny, who was seated on his tiny cot with his head bent and his hands clasped between his knees. The older man seemed to be rocking himself back and forth while Johnny and Max paced uneasily back and forth nearby.

Elizabeth's brow furrowed and she elbowed Luke in the side, tipping her chin toward the moblord. "What's wrong with him?"

The older man shrugged, throwing back the last of his scotch and raising his glass for a refill that Lucky immediately supplied. "I don't know. He's been spazzing all day. I tried telling him that he can't possibly be having an attack because this bunker is one _big_ hole in the ground, but it didn't do much good. So I just left him."

"He's claustrophobic, isn't he?" she asked, receiving a curt nod in reply. Despite the fact that Sonny Corinthos wasn't on her Christmas list, she couldn't help but feel sorry for him. He was in a strange country, away from his wife and little boy, and had nothing to do but putter around a bunker full of strange men that didn't show any consideration for him. No wonder he was freaking out. "He probably needs something to keep his mind off of being caged in here."

She popped the last bit of her _chalupa_ into her mouth and licked her fingers, walking toward the desk where she had left her satchel in her hurry to jot down the floor plan as she had remembered it. She picked it up and rummaged through it, walking toward Sonny. The mobster looked up as the brunette drew closer, his curious obsidian eyes following her slight form as she continued to poke through her cloth bag.

When she found what she was searching for, Elizabeth finally looked down at him. Heaving a sigh, she covered the last few steps that separated them and extended her arm, offering him a glossy Mexican magazine. Sonny's brows furrowed slightly but he accepted the gift, holding it gingerly in his hands.

"I'm sorry that you're being kept from your family," Elizabeth murmured, already taking a step back and preparing to withdraw entirely as Jason sidled over. "But maybe next time, you'll pick your battles a little more carefully."

With that, she turned on her bare heel and walked back to Lucky and Luke, accepting the sweet that Robert offered her with another glass of special lemonade. Sonny stared at the foursome, watching as Luke mussed his son's hair while Robert and Elizabeth laughed, and then looked down at the magazine in his hands.

* * *

"Come on, it's too early for this party to die down!" Luke Spencer frowned at the other members of the _Libertad_ party who were all smirking at him as they prepared to clear out for the night. "Where do you all think you're going?"

"They're tired, Luke," Elizabeth informed him, emerging from the washroom with Jason a few paces behind her. She had tied her wavy hair up in a messy bun but still wore her calf-length _sabana_ that bared her legs as well as the cotton top she kept tied at her midriff. "Let them go. There's nothing much to do here, anyway." She smirked at Robert and the sulking Spencer, tapping her chin. "You know, I never thought about how rough you guys have it – what _do_ you do all day while I'm out being unspeakably awesome?"

"Dad and Robert hold hands and skip," Lucky announced. "But me? I do something productive. Check out what I learned to do." He pulled a twelve-string guitar out from under his cot, showing it off to the curious brunette. "It's called a _bajo sexto_; Emmanuel showed me how to play it. Wanna hear a _norteña_?"

"What's that?" Elizabeth asked, eyeing the unusual instrument.

"It's a high-energy ballad," Sonny spoke up, playing with his rolled-up magazine. Barefoot and dressed in his slacks and a white undershirt that he wore untucked, the mobster looked considerably more at ease than he had earlier that evening. "It's really popular in this area and in northern Mexico, and the lyrics deal with life on the border, _desperados_, drug traffickers, corrupt public officials, and…rejected lovers."

"Appropriate," Lucky smirked, glancing at a scowling Jason as he began to pluck the strings. To his credit, he hadn't paid any attention to the enforcer since their little 'talk' about Elizabeth a couple days ago. He had said what he wanted to say, and he wasn't going to make the situation needlessly worse by ragging on Jason every chance he got – no matter how much he felt the older man deserved it. They were in a tense situation and tight quarters already; if he started something with Jason, everyone else in the bunker would have to deal with it as well. "Wanna hear me play? Say yes."

"Yes," Elizabeth agreed cheerfully, tossing her small toiletries bag onto her cot. "Show us what you've got, Spencer."

Lucky captured the tip of his tongue between his teeth just as he always did when he was playing a new or difficult piece, and began to pluck the strings like Emmanuel had shown him. The tune was easy enough to carry, and he had nothing to do all day but practice.

"Not bad, Cowboy," Luke mused, tapping his feet to the lively beat. "Catchy. Come on, darlin' – kick up your Sunday shoes."

Before Elizabeth had a chance to respond, the older Spencer grabbed her hand and pulled her toward a clear area in the bunker to dance. A little unsure of herself, she was more than happy to let him lead until she became more confident of her movements and before long, the two of them were hopping and twirling around on the cool tiles.

"That's it," Luke encouraged her, twirling her around and grinning when she squealed happily. "Faster, Cowboy!"

Lucky obliged and the tune took on a quicker and more energetic beat. Johnny and Max watched skeptically as Luke danced with the young woman, almost as if they expected the old man to keel over halfway through. Sonny nodded his head almost imperceptibly to the catchy beat and marked the notes by using his rolled-up magazine as a conductor's wand.

Jason, however, remained leaning against the wall, watching the petite brunette's eyes sparkle as she laughed and danced with the borderline senile Spencer. Her pale skin glowed in the well-lit bunker, and her silky dark hair was beginning to slip from the precarious knot on top of her head. Her movements were light and fluid and graceful no matter how crazy Luke's steps became. She laughed as he lifted her off the ground and spun her around, her eyes dazzling and brilliant. It had been a long time since he had seen her smile like that – and even longer since that smile had been for him.

"Okay, this is getting a little too Dick-Van-Dyke for me," Luke announced in the middle of the dance, glancing at his best friend as he passed nearby. "Hey, Robert! Look alive!"

The detective looked up just in time to catch Elizabeth against his side before she fell, and after a brief moment of motionless confusion, he shrugged and took her small hand in his. The brunette looked up at him with surprise evident in her sapphire orbs, but said nothing as he gracefully turned her and resumed the dance.

Lucky slowed the tempo down and the tune shifted from an energetic polka to a slightly fast-paced waltz. Elizabeth moved carefully, with less freedom and exaggeration than she had with Luke, and she took special care to keep up with Robert's steps and not make the mistake of stepping on his foot.

But the older man moved with ease and the grace of a jungle cat, and it was clear that he was no stranger to the waltz.

"I had no idea you could dance, Robbie," she finally spoke, settling a hand on his shoulder as he turned them once more.

She was treated to one of his signature half-grins. "I'm a man of many talents, doll. Waltzing just happens to be one of them. And it seems that you've had some lessons yourself."

The brunette rolled her eyes, barely feeling the weight of Jason's gaze on her. "When I was little, my parents would send me off to ballet lessons. I hated it."

"Dancing is a very useful skill, Elizabeth," Robert informed her seriously. "It teaches one how to carry oneself; it teaches carefully exercised control over the muscles. It breeds grace and balance, agility and flexibility, which are very important in…certain lines of work."

She smiled against his shoulder and nodded. The waltz continued and she moved gracefully in a circle with the older detective, and it wasn't until she heard him sigh heavily that she actually looked up at him.

His pale topaz eyes saw something in the far-off distance, and a wistful smile played upon his lips. "This takes me back."

"Back to where?" she couldn't help but ask as they swayed to the beat before he spun her around.

"Back to sunny Italy," Robert remembered fondly, his eyes sparkling in the brightly lit bunker. "_To a quaint little town where not a clock has been wound for over a century."_

She had never heard him sing, and it made her chuckle. "You've been to Italy, Robbie?"

"Been there? I lived there," he replied, wiggling his eyebrows. "My wife Anna and I spent many years in Italy back in the good old days." Elizabeth's eyes widened and she eagerly waited for him to continue. "One of the best countries in the world to live in."

"I've wanted to go to Italy for longer than I can remember," she confessed, a rosy blush stealing across her cheeks when her eyes accidentally locked with Jason's as Robert turned them.

"You really should, Elizabeth," he sighed softly. "You'd enjoy it tremendously." His voice was soft and distant, and the older man didn't notice that the petite brunette was unable to tear her gaze away from Jason's arresting cerulean orbs. "All I can see is me and Anna, dancing around the village square and laughing. I don't ever remember being unhappy back then."

Her eyes were soft and wet when Elizabeth finally tore them from Jason's and turned her face into the commissioner's shoulder. "I know the feeling."


	10. 10

Prompt: Dead End 

**Note:** Quick babble: I went over just a tad on this, but it couldn't be avoided. So hopefully, the Flash Fiction Police won't come chasing after me in their MLA Mobile and beat me on the head with their Gogol collection while screaming in Latin.

Also, Hannah, you totally predicted at least TWO upcoming plot points, one of which is kinda-sorta incorporated in this chapter. Get out of my head, you. chases

Thanks to Rebekah for providing me with fabulous clips of BDS, and thanks to Donna for providing me with fabulous caps of BDS. You both rock. I've made, like, eleventy bazillion new banners.

And this is for Izzie because she's awesome like that.

* * *

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 10**

The sun wasn't quite up over the horizon yet, but the lower level of Teodoro's dilapidated little bar was buzzing with energy and activity. The members of the _Libertad _party were organizing their strategies for the capture of Don Buenaventura and the raid of his estate; Robert was cleaning and polishing his gun, issuing orders to Lucky who had pulled out his laptop and was trying to get a location on the detective's colleagues in the World Security Bureau; Luke was singing showtunes as he fixed himself a liquid breakfast of scotch with a side of scotch. Max was playing cards with Emmanuel, Johnny was in the shower, Jason was upstairs eating breakfast, and Sonny was shaving.

The young woman arguably in the thick of it all, however, lay practically comatose on top of her made up cot. She had already showered and changed into her pale blue _sabana _and matching top, and her cork sandals were laying on the floor next to her duffel bag. Three days had passed since her landmark discovery in the Don's chapel and after that…nothing. She had found time to slip behind the painting into the secret room to search the various artifacts, but she was still in the dark as to what she was looking for specifically.

For the first time since she had begun the covert mission, Elizabeth Webber was exhausted. She was completely drained, physically and emotionally. She had thought, fool that she was, that she could handle all of this; she thought that she could do Luke and Robert proud. Instead, she found herself frustrated, weary, and miserable.

And it was all Jason's fault.

Well, to be fair, it wasn't _completely_ his fault. But then again, she didn't exactly feel like being fair. Everywhere she turned, there he was, dressed in a pair of loose black trousers supplied by the party and a white undershirt that did nothing to conceal his magnificent physique. His arresting blue eyes haunted her, drilling right into her and clearly seeing the hurt that she tried so hard to hide. Sharing a living space with him was just as infuriating and heartbreaking as it had been back in Port Charles, and she feared that she was slowly losing her mind.

Even though she did her best to hide the affect he had on her, she was mortified to realize that her best efforts weren't good enough. Robert had frequently caught her staring at the reticent enforcer, lost in her own petulant daydreams, and the ex-commissioner had been kind enough to kick her under the table before Jason noticed. Luke did his best to console her in his traditional, backwards Luke Spencer way, but he did nothing save embarrass her further with his long-winded tirades about fucknuts and the women who didn't deserve to be saddled with them.

Lucky, to his credit, studiously avoided and ignored Jason, but she knew her ex was just waiting for the enforcer to make a wrong move so that he could pounce on her behalf. Her former flame was very patient with her and made sure to encourage her whenever he saw her spirits dampening. Then again, he was also the one angrily thwumping her with a pillow in the middle of the night because she was having a rather…_active_ dream and emitting all sorts of strange feminine purrs and hums. In his words, if _he_ wasn't able to get laid any time soon, neither would she in her dreamworld.

Draping a slender arm over her bloodshot eyes, Elizabeth wished that she could retreat to her dreamworld again. She barely managed to get three hours of sleep a night, and at first her sheer adrenaline rush had prevented her from dealing with the effects of it. But now it was catching up to her, and she was definitely _not_ looking forward to getting up and hauling butt over to that goddamn estate again to root through miniature statuettes and old paintings and glass jars full of human ears.

Dimly, she was aware of soft footsteps descending the stairs down into the bunker as Luke launched into the chorus of _Sunrise, Sunset_. Robert was showing Lucky how to access the appropriate server he needed to get into in order to obtain the details of another covert operation his colleague was heading up at the moment, and Elizabeth did her best to drown the noises out and steal a few more moments of solace before the sun rose.

Her heart thumped in her chest when a cool shadow fell over her, and the brunette did her best to keep still and pretend that she was dozing. The cool scent of soap and leather washed over, making the butterflies in her stomach dance, and Elizabeth actively fought to keep still.

But Jason knew better, and the older man couldn't quite resist tucking a loose strand of her dark chocolate hair behind the delicate shell of her ear. The tender gesture shocked the brunette into removing her hand from her eyes and staring up at him only to find the enforcer – who had gone without a shirt, apparently for her viewing pleasure – holding a cup of orange juice out to her.

"Here."

She pursed her lips and stared at him, then reluctantly pushed herself up into a sitting position and took the drink. Her neck was sore from a night of tossing and turning on the thin cot, and she rubbed it absently as she sipped the juice, her first form of sustenance for the morning.

"Thanks."

It was a breakthrough for him, and Jason lingered near her cot like a dog waiting for scraps. "You okay?"

She stretched her legs, pointing her toes and not noticing how Jason's eyes followed her movements. "Tired. Frustrated. Hungry. Take your pick."

He scratched his jaw and sat down on the edge of the cot right next to hers, practically sending Lucky's precious headphones to the floor with a swipe of his hand. "I can get you something to eat if you-"

Elizabeth waved a hand at him, rubbing her slightly swollen eyes with the other. "It's okay, don't bother; I eat at the house with the girls every morning. The Do- uh, _he_ makes sure that breakfast is ready for all of us when we get there."

Jason folded his hands together in front of him, between his spaced knees, and just nodded. He didn't want to start another argument with her, and he knew that was what would happen if he said anything about how much he disliked her current predicament. Every time he was with her, he felt like he was slamming up against a brick wall. But the truth of the matter was, he honestly believed that he could break through it and find her on the other side. And that was what kept him here, sitting by her cot, grateful for the conversation.

But all good things come to an end, and Lucky Spencer soon proved that maxim to be true. Getting up from his seat at the desk and leaving the laptop in Robert's capable hands, he walked over to the food storage facility and grabbed a bottle of water.

"Hey, Elizabeth," he called out, watching as the young woman played with her orange juice. "Sun's almost up – get your lazy butt out of bed and get to work."

She knew he was just joking, but that didn't prevent her from glaring lethally at him as she reluctantly slid off the cot. "You know, now I don't even feel _bad_ about using your razor to shave my legs."

An impish grin curled Jason's lips as the younger blonde man stared at the petite brunette, utterly horrified. But the young woman paid him no mind as she stood next to her cot and rose on her toes, stretching out her arms and back. The view of her taut, toned stomach was very appealing, and Jason was finally snapped out of his admiring trance by Sonny's hesitant voice.

"Um, Elizabeth?"

The brunette whirled around, surprised to find him so close, and her dark sapphire orbs landed on the eight-inch knife that lay across his palm.

"I think this is yours," the mob lord mumbled, gingerly extending the dagger. "You, uh, left it in the bathroom."

With a weary sigh, she took it from him and settled one foot on the cot. Her _sabana_ fell to the side as she undid the leather strap and cinched it high on her thigh, making sure the dagger was secured before adjusting her skirt and standing. Emmanuel, one of the party members, had given her the dagger with the warning that things were starting to get dangerous since her discovery of the seized heirlooms, and it would be best if she was thus armed. The knife was easy to handle and he had shown her how to use it, and the leather strap wrapped around her thigh kept it concealed.

She lowered her leg and adjusted her skirts far too soon for Jason's tastes and rubbed her temples, trying to mentally psyche herself up for the day ahead. "Thank you, Sonny."

He nodded but she had already turned her back and slipped out past Jason's imposing form to dig around for her omnipresent satchel. The enforcer watched her drop her hairbrush and a few other miscellaneous items, and then reached out on his own to pull her identification card out from under her pillow.

Elizabeth turned around at the same moment and nearly collided with him. It took her a moment to steady herself with the aid of his strong arm around her waist but when she looked up, all she could see was blatant distaste in his blue eyes as he stared not at her, but the plastic card he held between his thumb and index.

She pushed herself back a step and watched as he frowned at the card and then held it out to her as if it were something foul. "You're going to need this, aren't you?"

It was a statement, not a question, even though he phrased it as such. Frowning, Elizabeth did her best to ignore her migraine and yanked the card from his hand. "Stop looking at me like that."

He blinked. "Like what?"

"Like you think I don't have a prayer," she hissed back, throwing the card in the bag and roughly cinching the rope. "Like I'm just some _idiot_ who got herself in over her head and is too clueless to find her way out."

"I wasn't-"

But now that Elizabeth was started, there was no stopping the flood of frustrations and misgiving that came pouring out of her. "I didn't _ask_ to be the next Indiana Jones, you know, but now that I'm in this position, I'm damn well going to my best. And you know what? Even though I told myself that I didn't care that you don't think I can do this, it still-"

"Elizabeth-" He held his hands up, palms facing her, as if to signal surrender and the brunette clamped her mouth shut, squeezing her eyes and trying to control herself. She hadn't meant to go off on him again but she was wound up and frustrated and could feel herself rapidly losing control.

Jason waited a tense moment, not realizing that almost every eye in the room was trained on them and every ear craned to catch their latest altercation. His soft cerulean eyes gazed pleadingly into her averted sapphire orbs, but she still wouldn't bring herself to look at him.

"I'm not here because I don't think you can do this."

She blinked, her dark eyes meeting his instantly, and Jason's heart constricted in his chest at the blatant disbelief and astonishment that lay there.

"Then why _are _you here?"

His hands dropped listlessly to his side as Jason tilted his head to the side, his voice dropping an octave. "Because _you_ are."

A long, motionless silence stretched between them as the enforcer and the brunette simply stared at each other, both doing their best to see past the hurt and the protective walls. The second hand ticked quietly, and Elizabeth finally remembered to breathe when Robert's low voice cut through the oppressive silence.

"Elizabeth." Her dark eyes darted to his, instantly missing the icy warmth of Jason's gaze. "The sun's almost up and the girls are beginning to gather at the house. You should leave now."

She lifted a trembling hand to her forehead and swept her bangs out of her face, nodding once. If she didn't get out of there at that moment, she didn't know what she'd do. Because as much as going back to the Don's house scared her and frustrated her…she was more scared and frustrated by the situation in the bunker.

Gingerly lifting her satchel, she kept her eyes on the ground and minced toward the exit that led to the tunnel. Robert was waiting for her, and the commissioner's pale blue eyes seemed to almost pull her along as she covered the distance between them.

Elizabeth stopped in front of the older man and peered up at him with questioning blue eyes as Robert stepped toward her with a grey mass of fabric in his hands.

"It's raining," he explained, stepping right up to her and adjusting the mantle he held. "You're going to need a cloak."

He reached around behind her and draped the fabric over her shoulders, straightening it so that it properly shielded her petite form. The girl's reluctance and desolation radiated off of her in palpable waves, and Robert let out a small sigh.

"Don't you worry about a thing, doll," he murmured, waiting for her to place her satchel over her shoulder before covering her arms with the massive cloak. "I know you're tired, and I know that you're losing heart. You keep at it, okay?"

Her dull blue eyes lifted to meet his and the young woman lifted one shoulder in a weary shrug. "I'm not getting anywhere. I haven't found _anything_."

The detective frowned at that and pursed his lips. A long moment passed before he spoke. "I have an old friend, Elizabeth. He always manages to find me when the going gets rough, and he's always guided me in the past – just like he will in the future. I received a phone call from him when I was in France, getting ready to fly out to Calvillo."

She studied him silently, reserved, but Robert pretended not to notice her lack of vivacity. He sneaked a discreet glance at Sonny and Jason and wasn't surprised to find the two men listening to the quiet conversation as well. Their constant scrutiny never bothered him; it would do those boys some good to see how the pros did it.

"He told me…he told me that I was heading into something that would be very strange and very difficult for me. He said that I would feel out of place, and that I would lose faith in myself and that I was in for a few unwelcome surprises. He said there were many changes…"

Elizabeth waited for him to explain, frowning when he trailed off. "Changes?"

"I asked him about that, too, and he just chuckled," Robert smirked wistfully. He reached behind her neck and grasped the hood, lifting it and bringing it up to cover her dark chestnut hair. "All he said was, '_her name is Elizabeth_.' And I didn't ask him for anything more."

The young woman was gaping at him, astonished, and the corner of Robert's mouth hooked up as he squeezed her shoulders and began to usher her toward the door. "You'll do fine, doll."

* * *

Jason's words haunted her all day. They repeated through her head, soft and rusty, like a broken stock ticker as she polished the religious ornaments and vacuumed the aisle. They stayed with her as she carefully polished the ornate frames in the chapel. And they reverberated through her, making her hands tremble, as she sat in the private room behind the body of Christ, surrounded by hundreds of millions of dollars worth of jewels and heirlooms.

She just didn't understand him.

It was something that she just couldn't wrap her mind around. If she believed him – if he wasn't actually here because he thought that she couldn't do this, then what the hell did he mean? His answer didn't make sense to her. Jason had flown thousands of miles to a foreign country just because _she _was there? And all this from a man who had left her alone day after day without even a phone call?

She just didn't understand it.

With a sigh, Elizabeth swept her bangs out of her face and looked around the foyer. Most of the women were already starting to leave, and she figured she should as well. It had been another fruitless day and she had absolutely nothing to show for her efforts. Stooping to grab her shoes from the mat, she padded barefoot out onto the verandah that led into the courtyard beyond which stood the magnificent gates that barred this Garden of Eden from the barren wasteland that was the rest of the village.

The smell of citrus wafted toward her from the gardens as Elizabeth stretched in the weak sunshine that escaped past a heavy shroud of clouds and then slipped on her sandals. Squirming into them, she felt a pair of eyes on her and stiffened. She hadn't heard anyone else out on the verandah when she came out, but now turning to her left, her dark eyes landed on the imposing dark-haired librarian she had run into several times since her first day on the job.

He was sitting on a lounge chair with a drink and a magazine spread across his lap, but his eyes were on her. Elizabeth did her best not to shiver as he raked a gaze up and down her slender form, his obsidian orbs glittering with pure male appreciation. There was something about the man that unnerved her, but she was determined not to let him see it.

The man – she thought his name was Marco, or something very similar – set his magazine down on the table and crossed his legs, and the brunette let out a sigh of relief when he remained sitting. She forced a bright, warm smile and chirped out a friendly farewell, finally managing to get her sandals on right. As she turned, her eyes swept over the foreign magazine he was reading with its strange cover and even stranger lettering, and quickly scurried down the steps, hugging her cloak close.

It didn't hit her during her entire walk back to the bunker. The strange, silent encounter wasn't worth mentioning to Robert or Luke when they interrogated her about her findings that day as they all struggled to unearth what Roy was after. Nothing of it registered as she sat on her cot before dinner, watching Jason do his daily push-ups at the other end of the bunker.

She didn't think anything of the brief meeting as she silently wolfed down her dinner next to Lucky and Sonny, or when the members of the party excused themselves and stole out into the night, heading to their own warm beds. She didn't pay any attention to the earlier event as she brushed her teeth between a gloriously bare-chested Jason and a lumpy, sagging bare-chested Luke, nor as she slipped into her cot for the night.

The encounter didn't bother her as Elizabeth drifted off to sleep, already dreading the next day on the inside of the Don's luxurious estate. She managed to sleep quite peacefully; a heavy, silent slumber untroubled by dreams and flashes of consciousness.

It was only in the middle of the night that the encounter crept back into the forefront of her cognizance, and the Greek letters scrawled across the cover of that ridiculous magazine were burned along the insides of her eyelids as Elizabeth shot up from her cot, her sharp gasp ripping through the silent bunker.

Somehow, the only person jostled out of a tranquil slumber was Jason, and the enforcer's wide cerulean eyes pierced through the darkness, landing on the brunette's trembling form. Their eyes met and held, blue on blue; one's fear of the unknown instantly recognized the other's fear of the known. They remained sitting on their cots, staring at each other as Elizabeth tried to compose herself. Jason slid one leg out from under his sheets, preparing to quietly slip over toward her, but she shook her head – hesitantly at first, then with resolution.

Forcing herself to slowly lay down on the cot once more, Elizabeth waited to make sure that he wasn't coming over to check on her anyway. It soon became clear that he wasn't, but the knowledge did little to relax her. Instead, she concentrated on the quiet ticking of the clock across the bunker, counting down the moments to sunrise.


	11. 11

**Prompt: The heart may freeze, or it can burn. The pain will ease if I can learn. There is no future, there is no past. I live this moment as my last.**

**Quick Babble:** First off, it's very hard to leave clues and have them be subtle and junk when the end result is so obvious, lol. Second, **Denelle** just rocks with the art knowledge; you are a worthy foe, m'dear. ;) Just kidding! Also, **Noodle** asked who Robert's friend was – the one that told him, "Her name is Elizabeth." That friend is Tanganeva, Robert's old aboriginal childhood pal from Australia with whom he has a psychic connection. Also, many, many thanks to Amanda for being a hep cat. Okay, here we go (I went a little over). This is going to be bad.

* * *

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 11**

The average healthy, well-adjusted adult would get up at six-fifteen in the morning feeling absolutely terrible.

But then again, Jason mused as he padded into the bathroom and spotted a petite brunette brushing her hair in front of the massive mirrors, few people in their right minds would call Elizabeth Webber 'average'.

The movements of the hairbrush she forced through her tangled wet locks stilled the moment her eyes locked with his in the mirror, and Jason met her gaze as he moved toward the shower stalls that lined the entire far wall. His black towel was slung onto the hook on the divider, and for a moment, Jason was about to turn and walk toward her. He wanted to know why she bolted upright out of bed last night, why she stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights, why her movements were so quick and jerky today even though her expressive eyes were frantic with calm.

Her sapphire orbs, laced with suspicion, the fear of being caught, remained trained squarely on his and with a small sigh, Jason eased back a step and slipped behind the heavy green shower curtain to wash up for the day ahead – a day that consisted of little else than arguing with Robert and Luke, doing one-handed push-ups, and scarfing down a humble meal at noon. Oh, the charms of the simple life.

After a moment, his pajama bottoms found the hook next to his towel and he turned on the shower, thick steam instantly spilling out over the curtain rod and into the massive bathroom. Elizabeth sighed and slowly set her brush down on the counter, concentrating on doing so noiselessly. Her fingers flirted with the edge of the sink basin before she pulled her hands back and stared at herself in the mirror.

She looked like Hell.

But it was nothing compared to what she felt like on the inside.

The night had inched along with frustrating lethargy, and she had stared at the ceiling of the bunker for hours listening to Luke snore, Robert mumble, Lucky huff, Sonny whistle, and Jason simply breathe. Her epiphany was terrifying and had scared away all possibility of sleep, and she was operating on pure adrenaline and sheer will power alone right now. Her body hummed and jumped, every bit as turbulent as her thoughts as Elizabeth tried to convince herself that she was doing the right thing.

She wasn't going to tell them.

There was no way she _could_ at this point in time. If she did, Luke would pull her immediately and try to find some other way, and in the time that took, they might very well lose the race. For once, _she _was the one on the inside, _she_ was the one with the answers, and _she _was the only way they stood a chance. And as much as that scared her, the possibility of losing it all scared her more. She wouldn't let Luke and Robert down like that.

And so she just wouldn't tell them.

Jason's shower was still roaring behind her as Elizabeth picked up her brush once more to ease out her tangles. After a sizable bout, she set the brush down and grabbed her blow dryer, her mind still racing over her mission for the day. For the first time in about four days, she'd abandon her little room in the chapel and venture to the other end of the house – the wing that housed the living quarters for a fair portion of the Don's staff. Magda had a room there, as she often spent the night in the villa, and Elizabeth was fairly sure that her newest target did as well.

She eyed Jason's towel and sweatpants, hanging so innocently on the double-hooks, as she ran her fingers through her damp tresses and did her best not to linger on the fact that he was completely naked behind that flimsy green curtain. If she wasn't still upset with him – and if Robert and Luke weren't sleeping a mere fifteen feet away – she'd slip behind that curtain and show him a _great_ way to start his morning right.

But something held her back. She wasn't sure now – more than ever – where she stood with Jason, or if they even had a realistic chance. They worked best when they were fighting off their feelings for one another; once they were actually together, neither really seemed to know quite what to do. Maybe that was what they got off on, and if that was true – it was a really sick way to live.

She didn't want to be mad at him. Hell, if she was honest with herself, she'd admit that she wasn't actually angry with him anymore. Being angry all the time was exhausting. And she had other things on her mind that somehow helped distract her from all of that. Instead, she was more hurt by his actions than anything else, and even that was beginning to fade. Now, what she wanted more than anything was to understand _why _he did what he had done. She had accepted it, to be sure, but she still wanted to know what led him to make the decision.

So caught up in her thoughts was she that Elizabeth barely registered the fact that Jason had finished showering until the strong, spicy scent of his soap wafted over toward her. Turning sharply, her breath caught in her throat when she realized that the enforcer, clad in nothing but a black towel knotted at the waist, was standing next to her in front of the mirrors preparing to shave.

He said nothing as he lathered up a glob of white shaving foam and spread it over his jaw, neatly concealing every bit of tanned skin. Doing her best not to watch the fat water droplets race down his chiseled chest, Elizabeth picked up her blow dryer again and finished drying her hair.

Jason's cerulean eyes periodically darted over to Elizabeth's reflection in the mirror as he cleaned his razor and began to shave, but the older man said nothing. He was dying to learn what had scared her last night, but hoped that she'd tell him herself if it was something she needed to talk about. He wasn't out to interrogate her like Luke and Robert; forcing her to do anything had never been his style. He just had to hold on to the faith that she would come to him if she needed him.

They stood and worked in silence, and Jason finished shaving and was cleaning his razor at the same moment that Elizabeth unplugged her blow dryer and brushed her hair for the last time.

His shoulders slumped slightly, and Jason was sure that she'd turn away and walk out of the bathroom without another word. One step forward, two steps back. The brunette turned on her bare heel, her back toward the mirror, but instead of walking away, she surprised him.

"Jason?"

His hand stilled as he wiped the last bit of foam off his chin, and the end of the wash towel dropped to his chest. "Yeah?"

Her elbows rested on the counter, her hands clasped together in front of her bare stomach, and Elizabeth's chin was tucked down into her chest as she studied her toes. "Why did you do it?"

The enforcer stared at her profile, his lips parted. He knew what she was talking about, but it still took him a moment to formulate his response.

Mistaking his silence for a lack of comprehension, the brunette turned her face toward his and peered searchingly up at him. "Why did you lie about Sonny's death?"

His hand curled around the edge of the basin as Jason stared down at her, the muscle in his jaw ticking. After a long moment, he let out a slow, whistling breath and began to speak so quietly that she had to almost strain to hear him.

"Things were…bad when you moved in with me, Elizabeth," he started, scrubbing one hand over his jaw. "Sonny and I tried our best, but everything was falling down. One thing after another…it was all collapsing. He…He faked his death as a last resort; we tried everything before that, but nothing was good enough."

She was listening patiently but refused to let any emotion show in her sapphire blue eyes as he spoke.

"We worked really fast – we decided that he would do this, and we made it happen immediately. There was no other way. It had to go down quick and come out of nowhere – that was the only way that it would be believable. And when it went down, he was out. And there were so many more things to deal with – the transition of the business, mainly. He had to stay low while I…took care of things. It was one strike after another, and I…I thought it would be easiest on everyone close to me if…only a few people knew."

She pursed her lips together but said nothing.

"Benny knew. Out of the guards, only Johnny, Max, Francis, Enzo and Reynaldo knew, and that was because they were closest to it. It was impossible to keep it from Carly and Michael. Greg – the accountant-" His blue eyes searched hers, probed hers, when the brunette nodded with recognition. "Even he didn't know about it."

He knew from her eyes the moment that it sank in, and Jason unconsciously took a step toward her. "Ever since I got started in the business, Elizabeth, Sonny taught me everything I needed to know. The most important thing he taught me was that you use what you have – the power, the money, everything – to keep the ones you love safe. If you can't do that, you can't do anything. None of it is worth _anything_ if you can't keep the people you love safe."

Her sapphire eyes were guarded at that word, that troublesome little word – _love_ – and Elizabeth looked away as he continued to speak in that low, rusty voice of his.

"And I always…I always thought that meant…making a clear division between what was business and what was personal. You don't mix the two. You only make mistakes when you mix the two." He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a humorless chuckle. "You mix 'em, and then someone's wearing a wire because she doesn't trust what the future holds."

She knew instantly that he meant Brenda, and Elizabeth wrung her hands together, still silent.

"It can be fixed later," Jason continued quietly, peeking up at her. "It can be explained…Every time Sonny had to do something, he'd do it, and explain it to Carly later."

She leaned back against counter, her hands gripping the edge as she tried to understand what he was saying. It was what he had been taught; the plain and simple dichotomy between business and pleasure that was never plain and hardly simple.

"I…I thought I could explain it to you," Jason finally spoke with raw earnestness. "I thought I could make you understand that I had to do it to keep everything from falling away; that if I stopped moving, acting, for one minute, everything would crash. But I couldn't, and you left."

Her eyes were distant as she stared at the showers, her fingers gripping the counter so hard that her knuckles turned pale.

"I thought you needed some time…away from me, so I let you go." He swallowed roughly, eyeing her as if he wasn't sure that she was even listening anymore. "I didn't think – I mean, I didn't mean-"

"The need to protect people clouds our judgment," she murmured, tipping her chin up and staring at the sparkling tiles. "We think that we have the answers, that if we can just get through this period of questionable choices and shady decisions, that we'll be okay. That we can _make_ everything be okay."

He stared at her, confused, but didn't interrupt.

"And sometimes we're right, and sometimes we're wrong. But all we can do is _act_. All we can do is go in there and do what we think is right, and that's what we have left to stand by when everything is said and done." She swallowed, feeling slight tremors race through her limbs. "Even if we're wrong. Even if we might be making a mistake."

She tapped her nails on the edge of the counter before releasing it and pushing herself away. Jason watched her, feeling lost and hopeful at the same time as Elizabeth walked rigidly out of the bathroom, still mumbling softly under breath.

"…Even if we might be making a mistake."

* * *

If she had thought last night to be interminable, it was still nothing compared to what her day had been like.

Elizabeth had arrived at the house at sunrise with the rest of the girls and went about her normal chores. She had seen the librarian – that creepy _Marco_ – on his way to his designated wing for the day's work. She wasn't quite sure what he did all day. Sure, he kept the books ordered and ready for the Don at his disposal, and kept the old man's periodical subscriptions up to date. He dusted and shelved, and sat around on his butt all day drinking lemonade. And that was apparently all.

She tried all day to escape her various posts, but the Don's guards kept proving that difficult. They always seemed to be underfoot, ignoring her entirely but making it impossible for her to sneak away to the wing where she so desperately needed to be.

It wasn't until after lunch that she got her chance. Under the pretense of helping Magda sweep out the hallways, she followed the young woman to the living quarters of the staff and began to search. After what seemed like forever, she finally managed to locate the room of the librarian and slipped in, unseen.

His room was as neat as a pin, except for the various glass bottles casually resting on the table, the windowsill, in the corner by the wall. Vodka, tequila, wine. Rubbing her palms together, Elizabeth glanced at the clock and swooped down on his personal belongings. The bed was clean, nothing underneath the mattress or the pillow or the frame. She searched his desk carefully, taking great care not to misplace things as she looked for something – anything – that would corroborate her worst fears.

Her eyes carefully skimmed every line on the little bits of paper he kept in his desk. She pulled out his daybook and found nothing incriminating – little reminders to pay the meager rent to the Don, to buy new shoes, to celebrate the holidays, and even a touchingly simple note to call his mother.

Snorting, she tossed it back and continued looking. There was one drawer in the desk that was locked and it took her only a minute to jimmy it, using the metal hairpin she had slipped into her dark tresses for that express reason. The pin, once she had learned how to use it, worked remarkably well every time – from now on, she'd leave the credit cards to Sydney Bristow.

Thinking that she had hit the jackpot, Elizabeth was disappointed to see that the drawer contained a few national currency bonds and some money, along with a silver pendant bearing the likeness of the Virgin. Good grief, her resident God-boy was too good to be true.

Frustrated now, she stamped her feet and continued searching. She went through his bookshelf and looked inside the little wooden boxes that decorated the shelves. She pulled the liner out of his almost-empty waistbasket, hoping to find something, but came up empty-handed. She searched the pockets of his pants and shirts and gave the rest of his closet a thorough perusal. She even pulled up the simple throw-rug to see if there was any sort of compartment underneath.

Absolutely nothing.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Elizabeth struggled to stay calm and maintain her composure. Kicking things across the room would not do at all. Instead, she took a few deep, cleansing breaths and tiptoed to his door. She opened it slowly, peeking out to see if anyone was around, and quickly slipped out, shutting the door behind her. Glancing over her shoulder every so often, the brunette quickly scurried out of the living quarters, tapping discreetly on Magda's door to let the other woman know that she was done.

After the disappointing search, Elizabeth returned to the chapel and spent several hours there, alternately pretending to sweep out the rows and searching through the heirlooms. But without the clues that she had been hoping to find, her search was every bit as fruitless as it had ever been.

And that was why she was going to search again.

She had probably overlooked something, something so blatant and crucial that was just under her nose the whole time. The first search had gone well enough – better than she could have hoped for, in terms of not being discovered – and Elizabeth had already managed to convince herself that she could do it again. If she still couldn't find anything…well, she'd worry about that when the time came.

Leaving the chapel, Elizabeth headed out to the verandah to have tea with Magda and the other girls as she usually did. Robert's words repeated softly in her head. _Be methodic. Be invisible_. She stuck to her routine and made sure that nothing in her demeanor was out of the ordinary. The librarian still gave her those come-hither looks when he came out on the verandah to drink his lemonade and enjoy the sunset, and Elizabeth still gave him a warm, oblivious smile. She chattered on with the girls as usual about nothing at all, but her mind remained on what she was after.

The sun had already set by the time she was finally able to make her way from the kitchen to the living quarters. She was late and the men might worry, but she had to do this. They'd understand. She'd find what she was searching for, which would lead her to the artifact, and then they'd all be able to move out of that ridiculous bunker. Robert's colleague from the World Security Bureau was en route to Calvillo and would be able to help the party oust the Don and set up a war tribunal, and eventually establish a new government. She just had to do this, and everything would be all right.

Everything would be all right.

And after this was done, she'd talk to Jason. That is, she'd really _talk _to him. She didn't know if it would lead to anything – if it would lead to them getting back together. She wasn't sure at this point that she was ready for that again. She loved him, she knew deep inside. She did, but that didn't mean she didn't have the right to be a little gun-shy. And even if they didn't get back together, it would be good to clear things between them. He was still a very important person in her life; he had helped her up during her worst days and supported her. Even if they didn't work romantically, she still wanted him to be someone that she could talk to. She never wanted there to be any bad blood between her and Jason. Once this was done with, she'd do her part and listen to him and fix this.

Everything would be all right.

The hallway was quiet as she crept down toward the edge, staying close to the wall. Most of the other boarders were getting ready to eat dinner now, so most of the rooms lay open and empty. This would be even easier than it had been this morning.

But as she crept toward the librarian's room, Elizabeth's heart sank. His door was almost completely closed, and a thin strip of golden light fell onto the polished hardwood in the hallway.

He was in there.

Sinking her teeth into her lower lip, the brunette crept forward despite telling herself that she should better leave. There was nothing she could do if he was in there. Still, she couldn't resist taking a little peek anyway.

He was standing by the desk dressed in his loose black pants and his pale green shirt. His table lamp made the tequila in his right hand glitter and dazzle, and the man was singing. He was _singing_.

She wrinkled her nose, tiptoeing forward to get a better look. He didn't have the greatest voice, and he was kind of drunk, but at least he was singing in English so that she could pick up a couple slurred words.

There was something in his hand that Elizabeth couldn't quite make out, but she did see a book on his desk that she had passed over in her search – the Holy Bible. It had been opened to an arbitrary page marked by a bookmark – the picture in his hand. Her fingers curled around the doorframe as Elizabeth nibbled her lip, squinting at the glossy photo he held in his hand.

"_..in the day and in the night! Through the years, the end of my life!"_ He was singing still, utterly oblivious, and paused only to take a swig of his tequila. With his arm raised, Elizabeth had a better view of the picture in his hand, and her eyes instantly zoned in on the large ruby necklace set in silver with multiple smaller rubies to balance out the design.

That was it – that was the artifact!

She backed away from the door with her hand over her mouth, afraid that she might let out a squeal of excitement. The artifact wasn't a statue or a piece of pottery – it was a necklace! A ruby necklace! It just had to be. And she had seen that exact necklace several times in the little room behind the chapel, stowed away in a porcelain urn. All that was left was to recover the necklace and that would be it.

…Everything would be all right.

He was singing again, and the baritone drawl pulled her from her trance. Elizabeth was about to leave but something struck her at that moment and she leaned closer, trying to pick up the words. The song had just ended, whatever little ditty he was singing, and now he was speaking to someone – or something. As she listened, it became clear that he was speaking to the photograph in his hand.

"It won't be long now," he murmured, tossing the picture back on the desk. "I'll find you. I know you're here, and it won't be long before I get to you at last. And then Madame Cassadine shall at last have everything she wants."

And there it was.

She had known it ever since she saw the librarian's magazine with its Greek lettering. She had known since then that whatever Roy was after, Helena Cassadine was after it, too. And that was why she hadn't told Luke and Robert about what she was thinking. Luke was already overprotective about her when it came to the Cassadines, and if she so much as mentioned his favorite Dragon Lady he'd have pulled her out by the seat of her pants and come up with something else.

Her reason for staying wasn't that she was a glory-hog, or desperate to prove a point to Jason and Sonny. She was hardly that selfish. Her main driving reason for sticking with the mission despite the newest discovery was that she was the one that had an established 'in'. She had familiarized herself with almost every part of the Don's house. His men knew her – hell, even Buenaventura himself knew her – and she had a feeling that she could waltz by them with an Uzi stuffed under her skirt and they'd hardly give her a second glance. If she were to step back, they'd have to start back at one, and she had every reason to believe that it would be twice as difficult to get back to where they were.

And now she had it. She had everything she needed. There was no way she'd be able to get to the hidden room tonight; it was fairly unusual for her to stick around the villa this late, so she was already putting herself at risk. The best thing to do would be to get back to the bunker and return in the morning. She'd come back, eat breakfast with the girls, take off with Magda to pick roses and trim the hedges, run back in for some water and then sneak off to the chapel. Then she'd make some excuse about not feeling well and would skip off to the bunker with some roses or grapes in the pouch of her skirt – along with the artifact.

She had just settled on the plan and turned to make her exit when the door flew open and the drunken librarian stumbled out. He was actually in need of the bathroom, but when his dark brown eyes landed on the brunette a few paces away, a certain other primal need made itself known.

Elizabeth backed away a step, and then another, and stumbled over her own feet as she turned to run away. But the librarian was quicker and she had barely covered a yard before his imposing form blocked her, easing her back toward the wall.

Panic took over as she looked into his glittering orbs. He backed her up toward the wall slowly, a jungle cat cornering its prey. His scent – filth and citrus – washed over her, making her gag, and the stench of tequila wasn't helping matters any.

"Well, we meet again," he chuckled, lifting a finger to stroke the line of her jaw.

Elizabeth ground her teeth together and braced one foot flat against the wall, her right hand slipping down to the slit in her skirt. Emmanuel had shown her how to protect herself with the dagger – with her foot braced against the wall, she could push off and add additional strength to her momentum. Her fingers brushed against the strap that held the knife secured to her thigh when the librarian struck.

She barely knew what was happening as he grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head, stretching her arms. He hadn't realized what she was up to; this was just an enticing position for him. She shivered as his free hand skimmed up her side, caressing the smooth skin of her bared stomach before teasing higher.

His thumb brushed against the underswell of her left breast, skirting the lush mound as the corner of his mouth hooked upward in a dastardly smirk. "To what do I owe this visit?" he inquired, cupping her now with his hand and squeezing her wrists painfully when she struggled. "Perhaps you'd like to join me for a night cap, señorita? What's the lady's pleasure? I hope it's tequila."

He was close – alarmingly close. He nuzzled the side of her face, moving lower to her neck as his hand continued to roam her body. His fingers swept through her hair, pulling her wispy locks from her careless bun. She whimpered and struggled against him, trying to tear herself from his grasp but the only thing that tore was the shoulder of her blouse.

He snarled and gripped her legs, trying to stop her frantic kicking. His rough hand painfully squeezed her thigh – thankfully, not the one that had a knife strapped to it – and he grunted at her pathetic attempt to knee him. She wasn't in the right position to do any damage that way, and now they both knew it.

Impatient now, he slipped his hand under the slit of her skirt and did a little exploring, ignoring her enraged yell. Squirming a little to the left, Elizabeth found that she could twist her body at a good angle to get her legs free – and she did. The freedom allowed her a better shot, and this time when she tried to knee him, the man did more than grunt. His face contorted in pain but his grip on her wrists remained tight, and Elizabeth barely registered the fact that he had torn her skirt.

She reared back to do it again when he blocked her, crushing her petite frame to the wall with no room left for movement.

Bending his head, he stared her directly in the eyes. "What are you going to do now, sweetheart?"


	12. 12

Prompt: Beautiful Suffering 

**Note: **Thank you for your feedback; I really appreciate it and I love to know what you all are thinking with each coming chapter. I'm sorry that I let you guys think that Elizabeth was going to get raped; honestly, it goes no further than it did in the past chapter. I just wanted to say that upfront so you don't skip past the first part of this update, lol. Also, there will be plenty of time for Elizabeth to kick butt and take names; this is not one of them.

* * *

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 12**

"Did you notice?"

Luke looked up from the newspaper in his lap, his pale blue eyes landing on Robert as the detective paced a few feet away, rubbing his rough jaw. "Did I notice what, Robert?"

"She was acting…strange today."

The older Spencer shrugged, trying to appear casual despite his own unvoiced concerns. "She's infiltrating the house of one of the top twenty human-rights violators on the face of the planet. She's allowed to be a little jumpy."

"It wasn't just that…" Robert trailed off, scratching his chin absently. His steely blue eyes landed on Lucky as the boy peeled back the layers of an orange. "You – did you notice it?"

He looked up, the dozing child at school being asked to recite the Gettysburg address. "She…uh, she seemed fine. A little quiet, a little moody. Maybe it's, uh….you _know_…um, that time of the month."

Robert rolled his eyes and shrugged uneasily, unable to shake the troubling feeling. "I don't know, maybe I'm just making things up. But she was…or rather, maybe it was how she _wasn't_." He glanced at Luke who had folded his paper across his lap. "She wasn't as tired or sullen this morning as she has been for the past couple of days. Normally, she trudges out of here like a cow to the stockyard. Today, she was _ready_. It's like she was…"

"Like she was just _waiting_ to get out there," Jason finished quietly, balancing his elbows on his knees as he sat close to the edge of his tiny cot. His guarded eyes met Robert's suspicious ones, and he offered nothing more.

After a moment, the commissioner took the bait. "You noticed it, too, then?"

He nodded once. "She…she said something this morning that…I didn't really know what she meant by it," he admitted, straightening up as Robert crossed his arms over his chest and listened. "I've never heard her talk like that before."

"What'd she do – speak in tongues?" Luke demanded, turning around to face him. "Out with it, Morgan."

"She…she asked me why I didn't tell her about Sonny's death." He didn't feel like revealing that, but it was the entire context of her words. None of the other men said anything at first, though Jason was fairly certain he heard Robert emit a derogatory snort.

"And I told her that I made a choice and thought that I would be able to fix it," he continued, determined to leave it at that. He was already unsettled by the fact that every man in the bunker at the moment – including many of the party members – knew the details about his relationship with Elizabeth; they didn't need any more information. "And she started talking like she wasn't even listening anymore."

Robert resumed his pacing, his arms still crossed over his chest.

"She said something about how the need to protect the people we care about clouds our judgment." His eyes were distant as he remembered that brief encounter in the bathroom that had given him more hope than ever before in the past two weeks. "That we want to make everything be okay, so we do things even if we might be making a mistake. She kept saying that – that we do them even if we think we're making a mistake."

He stopped with a shrug, letting them know in no uncertain terms that he had nothing more to say. Sonny exchanged quizzical looks with Max and Johnny, neither of whom appeared too concerned. Women were always saying strange things as far as the two bodyguards were concerned.

Luke and Robert, too, looked at each other with matching looks of confusion. For the most part, Elizabeth had been the most cheerful and upbeat person in the bunker. She goaded Lucky into play-fights in the morning by stealing his razor or making off with his towel while he was showering; she kept up with Luke's fast-paced and meandering chit-chat; she even entertained the various members of the party. She had been a bit depressed for the past two days, to be sure, but she had never said anything about it. And if Jason was telling the truth, then he was right – it _was_ a bit out of the ordinary. But maybe they owed her that much; she was probably just letting off some steam.

Robert and Luke's momentary relief didn't last long. In fact, it evaporated as soon as they looked in Lucky's direction only to find the young man gaping at them with wide topaz eyes.

"Oh, shit," he cursed, raking a hand through his pale blonde spikes. "This is _not_ good."

* * *

Elizabeth Webber always knew that it was easy to be brave – at a safe distance.

But now, as she stood trapped between a hard wall and a – oh, _God_ – hard man, she didn't want to be brave. She wanted to be rescued. She wanted to get away from this horrible, drunken, brutish, sexually aroused monster that held her captive.

Panic held her paralyzed, rigid and petrified against his unwanted advances. Suddenly, she was sixteen again. The reality of the situation surrounded her, strangled her, had her choking for a gasp of air. Elizabeth fought down the bile as it rose in the back of her throat when he eased closer, a seductive gleam in his hazy, drunken, stupid eyes.

Blood whistled through her veins, roared in her ears, but it did little to drown out the sound of her fear. She struggled to free her hands – even one hand would do. Robert had shown her a couple tricks of the trade that he had picked up long ago, and Elizabeth was fairly certain that if she could get even _one_ hand free, she had a good chance of felling her colossal assailant at least momentarily so that she could make her escape.

But her best efforts yielded no advantage, and the petite brunette was powerless against him. Fortunately, he hadn't really done anything to her since he asked her what she was planning to do. Instead, he just watched sadistically as she tried to escape, the smug feline studying the wounded and desperate mouse.

Fury bubbled up within her, hot and blinding – fury aimed at him for being so vicious, at herself for being so foolish and powerless. And in her blind rage, Elizabeth did something that she had never once done before in all her time in the house of Good Fortune: she failed to register what was going on around her.

And that was why she was so surprised when a small, dark hand pressed a white handkerchief over the librarian's nose and mouth. The man squawked, his grip on her hands loosening, and tried to rip the cloth away. But the battle was over before it began, and Elizabeth watched his eyes roll backward as he slipped into unconsciousness with a groan.

The hand pressed squarely over his nose and lips remarkably managed to keep him from passing out on top of her and pinning her to the wall. Elizabeth's watched through terrified blue eyes as his form slumped and was then eased down slowly until he rested in a puddle of limbs at her feet.

Swallowing roughly, she lifted her sapphire orbs to meet Magda's calm but concerned caramel eyes. The nineteen-year old girl stood before her with her long hair flowing down to her back, dressed in nothing but a long tunic top. In her hand, she still held the damp handkerchief and a small white bottle.

The younger woman's dark eyes scanned Elizabeth quickly for injuries, lingering on the bruises on her wrists and thigh. Satisfied that she had not been hurt in any other way, Magda slipped her soiled handkerchief into the breast pocket of her tunic. She had been in the process of changing out of her sweaty clothes for dinner when she heard a commotion very near her door. A quick peek revealed that Señor Roberto's _paloma_ was in trouble and without a second thought, she had seized a handkerchief and the small bottle of chloroform she kept in her drawer at all times. The brute had never seen it coming.

"I…" Her voice was thick and slurred with tears to the extent that Elizabeth barely recognized it herself. "Magda, thank you."

"Go," the girl commanded gently, her eyes wide and sympathetic as the brunette gathered her torn skirt and held up her ripped blouse. "I will take care of this, _hermana_. Go back to Señor Roberto, as fast as you can. Go."

She nodded once, then again, a little stronger this time. Tightening her grip on her torn clothes, Elizabeth glanced one last time at the young girl as she dragged the librarian back to his room and then turned on her heel and fled into the darkness.

* * *

"What do you mean?" Robert's unforgiving eyes were trained on Lucky's face as the young Spencer paced and cursed. "Lucky – why isn't this good?"

"She's doing something," the boy muttered, rubbing his temples as he did his best to think like his bratty but crafty ex-girlfriend. "Elizabeth only talks like that when she knows something or is about to do something. _Shit._ She's already late – who knows what the hell-"

"All right, all right, no need to panic," Robert growled, beginning to pace as he tried to keep calm himself. "Emmanuel?"

The guard looked up from his correspondence. "Yes, Señor Roberto?"

"Has Elizabeth passed along any message to us today?" The detective's silver-blue eyes were as hard as steel. "Have the men brought back anything?"

The younger man shook his head regretfully. "If she had said something, Señor, you would have been the first person I would tell."

Luke swore and Robert rubbed the back of his head. "All right. Thank you, Emmanuel."

"I can send someone in to retrieve her," he offered, trying to be helpful in the face of his disappointing response. "Esteban usually infiltrates when the other women need help. If you-"

"We'll give her another half hour," Robert interrupted in a tone of finality. "Half hour."

Luke opened his mouth as if to object, but then snapped it shut and glanced at his boy instead. "I hope to God you're not right, Cowboy."

His son stared gravely at him from a few feet away. "You and me both, Dad."

Sonny turned slowly toward Jason, his eyes troubled and weary. This whole situation made him profoundly uneasy, but he had since accepted that he wasn't in a position to do anything. And for that matter, neither were Robert or Luke, for all their big talk and bluster. Jason rubbed his eyes wearily, keeping them covered with his hand. With his back bent forward and his elbows balanced on his knees, the enforcer appeared to withdraw from the tension in the room.

This was not good.

He could feel it, and it scared him. She was late tonight, but that wasn't the troubling part; she had been late before as well. But after what happened last night and again this morning, his radar was on high alert. This wasn't normal and whatever it was, it definitely wasn't good. Something was wrong, and he couldn't do a damn thing about it. He was terrified for her, but that wasn't helping either of them. So instead of jumping to his feet and lashing out at Luke and Robert, Jason Morgan kept himself still and silent as he waited for her to return safely back.

The minutes ticked by slowly, and the agitation in the room seemed to rub off on Emmanuel. He began pacing as well, sneaking furtive glances at the clock and counting down to the time when he'd be able to send a message to Esteban.

Five minutes were left on the clock when they heard a soft knock on the door. It wasn't the trademark knock used by the party members when seeking entrance through the tunnel, but Pedro didn't question Emmanuel when the leader gave the signal to open it.

Luke and Robert turned as soon as the door creaked open, and both men froze in place. Lucky's mouth dropped, his fisted hands relaxing until his fingers were only slightly curled. Sonny and Jason, who had both been seated on their respective cots, somehow found the strength to rise slowly to their feet, their eyes wide with disbelief. Johnny and Max, engaged in a game of poker with another guard, turned and stared. The Irishman's lips parted and his fingers loosened their grip on the cards he held until his hand fell altogether. The cards fluttered gaily to the floor. Full house.

Elizabeth Webber stood next to the open door, her expressive eyes partially hidden under a curtain of hair. Her thick chocolate locks which had been secured in a wispy chignon that morning were now ripped down and unruly around her face. She was trembling slightly, and the top of her blouse had been ripped at the shoulder so that she had to hold it up with one hand to keep from exposing herself. The other hand was fisted in her torn skirt with the same goal in mind, gathering the torn fabric at mid-thigh level, leaving her exposed dagger to glitter under the bright lights. Her eyes were the most heartbreaking aspect of her experience: they held the bewildered look of a wild animal even as she did her best not to look directly at any of the men.

Luke's pale blue eyes were soft and wet, and if his heart hadn't already turned into a lump of coal many years ago, he would have sworn that he felt it break. Robert, too, was unable to do anything but open and shut his mouth like a gaping fish, shell-shocked into silence and petrified with astonishment. Sonny's limbs felt like water as Jason's heart thundered uproariously in his chest, but neither man could bring himself to say anything, much less move.

The silence was deafening, a dull roar, as the men simply stared at the petite brunette. Her trembling grew until she was visibly shaking, and then Lucky was there. He raced past his stunned father and immobile Robert, and as Elizabeth abandoned her skirt and lifted a hand to cover her mouth, he scooped her up in his arms and let her bury her face in his neck as he took off and carried her away.


	13. 13

**Prompt:** Okay, you know what I LOVED about this past Monday's (May 1) episode of General Hospital, besides the Liason scenes? Two things: The fact that Robert referred to himself as "Roberto" and the fact that the hooker that freed Luke had a knife strapped to her thigh. Heh. It's the little inconsequential things that amuse me. ;)

I have decided that I will be discontinuing this story as a Flash Fiction series; this way, I'll be able to update it whenever I want, which is precisely why you are getting TWO chapters today. Yes, I know, I'm pretty darn great.

This one is in honor of my pal **Puck**.

* * *

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less -- 13**

It was his second glass of scotch in the past half hour and Luke Spencer was just getting started. Years of practiced and regular drinking had built up an almost inhuman degree of tolerance in his iron constitution, but he'd still give his body a workout tonight. The world was at the moment only slightly fuzzy – nowhere _near_ fuzzy enough – so he poured himself another glass of the amber liquid and stared at it.

He could feel Robert's guardedly concerned eyes on him, but didn't give his old friend much thought. The commissioner, after all, had his hands full just trying to keep a safe amount of distance between Luke and the other men in the bunker. It had taken all of twenty seconds after Lucky had carried Elizabeth away for Jason to explode, and Sonny didn't bother holding him back this time. If Emmanuel and a couple of his friends hadn't decided to stick around with their cocked revolvers, Luke had no reason to doubt that he'd be in a world of pain, thanks to one bumbling mob lord and his robotic enforcer.

The strangest thing was that he didn't even blame them – either of them. If he wasn't himself, he'd have wanted to beat the living shit out of him, too. There was no rational way for him to argue against Jason's attacks because the enforcer was right: he never should have gotten Elizabeth involved in this expedition if he couldn't guarantee her safety. It was because of him and his lust for adventure that Elizabeth had been…

God, he couldn't even think about it.

He took another large gulp of the fiery single-malt and closed his eyes. The distant gush of the shower was a dull roar, echoing mercilessly in his head as Luke toyed with the glass. He had promised Elizabeth when he first brought her out here that she would be taken care of; Robert had promised the same thing when he told her she'd be going undercover. The commissioner had a thorough knowledge of what went on in the bunker and he knew what to do if something went wrong, such as if Elizabeth was discovered. The_ Libertad_ men on the inside had sworn to protect her just like they protected their own women who infiltrated the villa, but none of them had been prepared for this possibility.

With a heavy sigh, Luke forced his eyelids open and peered out across the room. Robert paced in the middle, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his brows furrowed hard as he patrolled the border, keeping Jason away from Luke. The man in question sat on his cot, his limbs rigid and locked, staring lethally in Luke's direction. Sonny was next to him, his hands clasped between his knees, offering support the only way he knew how to at the moment – by keeping his mouth shut.

It was going to be a long night.

And he wouldn't be surprised if he woke up in the middle of it to see Jason hovering over him with a knife.

That would be just great.

The scuffle of the metal support of the cot against the floor indicated that Jason was once more on his feet. But Robert didn't have to physically prevent him from approaching Luke; the enforcer did nothing but pace in agitation, awaiting Lucky's reemergence with both eager anticipation and trepidation.

They didn't have to wait much longer. Ten minutes later, with the shower still gushing at full spray, the door to the washroom creaked open and Lucky stepped out. All eyes flew to him instantly, but his remained downcast, focused on the rolled wad of torn clothing he held in his hands. Emmanuel gave a quiet signal to his comrades, and the men of the _Libertad_ party silently made their exit. This was a family matter.

Luke's breathing was slow and shallow, the sound of rustling leaves, as he studied his son and tried furiously to read his body language for clues as to how badly Elizabeth had been hurt. The boy didn't look up as he stood at the far end of the room. Instead, his sluggish fingers attempted to absently fold the ripped skirt and top that he held, until he realized what he was doing. He stopped, and a spark of recognition raced through him and the next thing they knew, Lucky was furiously wadding the fabric up again into a tight ball and flinging it into a nearby wastebasket. If he had a match, he would have set the fucker on fire.

Jason was the first to stalk toward him when Lucky finally approached them. "What happened?"

The boy pursed his lips, meeting the enforcer's gaze and then looking at the other men as they gathered closer. "She wasn't hurt." Seeing their blatant skepticism, he quickly clarified his statement. "Not _that_ way."

"Oh, thank God," Robert murmured, rubbing his hands over his face. "Thank God. Did you hear that, Luke?"

His best friend nodded once but his head remained bowed, his eyes downcast, prompting Lucky to drop his hand to his father's shoulder and give him a reassuring shake. "Look, she…she told me what happened. The librarian guy that she told us about a few days ago was drunk, and she was in the wrong place at the wrong time, because he jumped her and…and grabbed her and pushed her up against the wall."

Jason's hands curled into fists and a small muscle in his jaw ticked as he shot a slow, lethal look at a grave Luke and Robert, but to his credit, managed to save the death threats for later.

"She tried to get away or – or get at the knife, but he had her by the wrists and she couldn't do it." Lucky looked away and rubbed the back of his neck, extremely uncomfortable being the center of attention in this manner. "She says he didn't do much – just…um…groped her a bit."

Luke cursed under his breath and turned away, his back toward the group, and Robert looked away.

"Then apparently Magda – one of the other girls on the inside – showed up and drugged the guy," Lucky hurriedly added, his worried eyes resting on his father's back. "Elizabeth said that Magda told her to get out of there and that she'd take care of it, and the last thing she saw was Magda taking the guy back to his room. That's…that's what I know."

Robert was stroking his chin absently, lost in thought. "She's not going in there again."

Luke didn't say anything as he turned back around, running his hand through his thinning white hair. The guilt was evident on his face, made even more obvious by the scotch he had consumed. Lucky sighed and shuffled his feet, unsure of what to say to make his father feel better.

Jason slammed his palm in his fist, grasping it firmly with the other hand. "Does…does she need anything?"

Lucky looked up at him, recognizing his question in clear terms. _Is there anything I can do?_ Reluctantly, he lifted one shoulder in a weary shrug. "She's taking a shower right now…she's calmed down and looks a bit better. Other than that…I think she just needs a little space."

A rare rush of sympathy for the enforcer washed over him as Jason nodded once and looked away, dejected. "Look, this…it brings up real bad memories for her. She's _scared_." His eyes half-pleaded with the man who had once been one of his role models. "And you know what? …_She's_ the only one that can really deal with this. She'll let us know if she needs anything." He glanced at the duffel bag that lay next to his cot and paused for a moment before moving toward it. "…like clean clothes."

Jason let him pass and instead turned his lethal gaze on Luke, but one look at the older Spencer told him the man was too buzzed to be dealt with. It was clear that Luke felt guilty – as he should – and since he hadn't offered any resistance to Robert's command of Elizabeth not going back, there wasn't much more Jason wanted to say to him.

Scowling, he turned away and settled his hands on his hips. There was nothing for him to do, and it was driving him insane. Normally, when he felt like this, there was someone for him to exact physical force against. There was someone directly responsible that he had direct access to – usually in the back room of an abandoned, out-of-the-way warehouse. But this time, there was nothing. He wasn't on his home turf, and he certainly wasn't in a position to be useful.

Lucky was digging around in his duffel bag and finally managed to produce a pair of dark green plaid pajama bottoms and an old _Donny Darko_ t-shirt. Straightening, he made sure the articles were folded neatly and tucked them under his arm, glancing toward the washroom when he heard the shower slow to a trickle and then stop altogether.

Quietly, he slipped past Jason once more and prepared to head back to Elizabeth with the fresh change of clothes. But he had only advanced a few steps when he stopped, and a brief moment passed before he turned around to once again find six sets of curious eyes on him. Sucking in a deep breath, he slowly met his father's gaze.

"Dad…there's something else."

Luke raised an eyebrow, knowing by the look in his son's eyes that this was most likely the worst of it. He'd never admit it out loud, but nothing scared him more than when Lucky had _that_ look on his face. "What is it, Cowboy?"

The boy's grip on the soft t-shirt and pajama bottoms tightened, and he had to look away for a minute. "Elizabeth told me…about the artifact."

Robert looked up sharply, then tucked his chin into his chest. "Look, Lucky," he got out slowly, "whatever she wants to tell us about the artifact can wait…at least until tomorrow. We're not trying to push her, and she's going to need some time to-"

"I'm with Robert," Luke agreed, rubbing his temples. "Nothing's more important than her right now. The trinket can wait."

"Dad, it's Helena," Lucky blurted out, swallowing hard when he saw the shock on Luke and Robert's face. "That…That's how this whole thing happened."

He glanced quickly at Sonny and Jason, who were staring back gravely, a mask of granite having descended over their features. "Dad, the librarian works for Helena Cassidine."

As long as Jason had known Luke, he knew that the old man had prided himself on not displaying his weakness or his emotions. He remembered the night of the opening of _Luke's_ when Nikolas was shot in the parking lot; Luke had been calm and composed then even though Jason knew that he was panicking on the inside at the very real possibility of one of Laura's children not making it through the night. The night Lucky supposedly disappeared in the fire, Luke had been soft-spoken and frantic with calm. But it still didn't surprise Jason to see the older Spencer teeter slightly before sinking down onto his cot, aghast at his son's report.

Robert, too, was having a hard time processing this information and once again looked like a gaping fish out of water as he tried to formulate a response. "Are – Are you _sure_? How could Elizabeth possibly know-"

"Yesterday," Lucky answered quietly, as if that was the answer to all the confusion. "Yesterday when she was leaving the estate, she saw the librarian on the porch. He was drinking lemonade and reading a magazine. She didn't think about it until later, but in the middle of the night she remembered seeing Greek lettering on the cover."

Jason closed his eyes, covering them with his hand, and cursed. _That_ was why she had shot up from bed like she had been struck by lightning – and _that_ explained the grim overtone that had hijacked their conversation by the sinks earlier that morning.

"She didn't say anything about that."

Lucky studied his toes, wincing slightly at the coldness of Robert's voice. "She…she had a hunch that it was Helena when she remembered that," he admitted. "But she wasn't sure, and she didn't want you two to pull her out before she found out for sure, so she kept her mouth shut."

"Typical," Johnny muttered, running a hand through his dark hair and earning a surprised look from Sonny. "Well, even _I_ could have told you that's how Eliza- Miss Webber thinks," he replied defensively.

"She tried to sneak into the living quarters all day," Lucky continued quietly, feeling the weight of Robert and Luke's gaze on him. "She got there around noon-ish and did a sweep of his room, but didn't find a thing. For some reason she decided to go back, and she got a chance to do it before dinner."

"Why the hell would she go back?" Max mumbled to himself, shaking his head as if trying to understand. "What was she _thinking_?"

"He was in there," Lucky added, quickly continuing when Jason and the other men shot him alarmed looks. "But he was drunk, and she said he was singing and he had a photograph in his hand, and he said something about finally finding the artifact and returning it to Helena. And she was leaving when he came out into the hall and spotted her and…you know the rest," the boy finished with an awkward wave of his hand.

"Well, bloody Hell," Robert mumbled, wearily rubbing his eyes. "We're up against the Dragon Queen again. God _damn_ it!"

Sonny moved aside to avoid the detective's swing and exchanged worried glances with Jason. He had already divulged everything he knew of the last Spencer-Cassidine war and Jason was up to speed. Neither of them liked the idea of a rematch.

"I never should have brought her down here," Luke spoke up quietly, staring at the tips of his tented fingers. "If Helena's really after the artifact…she's probably got Elizabeth's number. _I'm_ the one that made her a target."

"She should have told us," Robert got out, wagging a trembling finger at Lucky and trying furiously to appear composed. "She should have told us – we would have done something. Something – we would have figured something out. There's no need for her to get caught up in this war, especially if…if she's been through it before. God, why didn't she _say_ something? She must have been afraid – too afraid to…I can't even imagine what she's thinking right now."

"She thinks it's her fault," Lucky got out quietly, twisting the cotton articles he held in his hands. The men quieted down and all eyes were once again on him, but the younger Spencer only shared a sad, knowing glance with his father who understood all too well what was going through Elizabeth's mind at the moment.

"She thinks…being attacked, this whole thing…is her fault," the young man got out in a choked voice, his eyes downcast in an attempt to hide the moisture that suddenly made his eyes shimmer. He tipped his chin up, smirking sadly at the ceiling, and then looked at his father as he threw his arms out to the side in a gesture of abject helplessness.

"And suddenly…I'm sixteen all over again."


	14. 14

One thing to know: I changed Lucky and Elizabeth's ages at the time of the rape. Elizabeth was 16, not 15.

This is for **LadyPuck**; she knows why.

Warning: if you've seen a lot of old clips – like original LL2v.JJ or especially the scene where Robin tells Luke about her HIV status – then this one will be a tearjerker. It certainly was for me. Definitely the hardest thing I've ever had to write.

* * *

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 14**

"Luke…what did he mean?" Robert exchanged glances with Sonny and Jason, who sat on the cot opposite him, and frowned when both men avoided his gaze. Next to him, his best friend appeared to only have eyes for his single-malt scotch. "What did Lucky mean about being sixteen all over again?"

Luke rolled his almost empty glass of scotch between his palms, his pale blue eyes hazy and soft. He remained silent, and after a long moment passed and Robert assumed that he wasn't going to get an answer anytime this century, Luke finally spoke up.

"Cowboy was there the first time this happened."

Robert wasn't following. "The first time? You mean she's been hurt like this before?"

His old friend shook his head, his wispy hair falling across his forehead. Luke's hands were closed tightly around his glass, so much so that his knuckles turned alabaster from a lack of circulation. "She's been raped once before."

Something twisted deep in his gut and Jason closed his eyes, resting his forehead against his clasped and fisted hands. With Luke still staring at the amber fluid in the bottom of his glass, Sonny was the only one that caught the look of shock and disbelief that raced across Robert's trained features.

"No, Luke, that's not…"

The older Spencer grabbed his bottle of single-malt scotch from its place by his feet and sloshed another serving into his glass, shaking his head at the disbelief in Robert's face. "She was sixteen when it happened."

Robert was speechless. He fell back slightly, gaping at his best friend, and his hands rested limp on his knees. Sixteen. It was almost the same age that Robin had been when… "_Sixteen_."

Luke nodded jerkily, holding his glass near his lips. "It was winter. Sometime in the winter…in-in the park. Cowboy was the one that found her."

He didn't notice how Robert's eyes flew to the bathroom door behind which Lucky had disappeared a short while ago, nor did he see the sadness etched into his old partner in crime's face.

A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth – ironic and wistful at the same time. "That was when they first got together. Lucky…God bless him, he did everything he could think of to help her. She was scared – too scared – to see anyone about it. That was why…a case couldn't be built and nothing could be done."

Robert's fingers tightened around his knees but the ex-commissioner said nothing.

"He helped her get past it – the fear, the anger, the guilt. And, somehow, somewhere along the way…" Jason looked up to see a dim light twinkling in Luke's hazy and distant blue eyes. "Those two kids fell in love. No one understood it, but no one could deny it."

Robert's somber eyes watched his old friend as Luke took a big, harsh gulp of the liquid, wincing as it burned its way down.

"And I feel like…such a low-down, damned son of a bitch," Luke struggled to get out, "every time I think that it was the best thing that could have ever happened to my son."

The detective looked away when the other man covered his eyes and let out a slow, breath. As if of their own volition, Robert's fingers began to travel toward his wallet, to the slip of paper that had broken his own heart so many years ago.

"I can never forget the look in his eyes," Luke continued softly, the tears evident in his voice, "when he came to me with the fear that being a rapist was genetic. I see his face at that moment in my nightmares, and it's never going to go away."

Jason swallowed hard, finding Robert a worthy distraction from Luke's heart-breaking reverie. The detective sat on the cot next to his best friend with his shoulders slumped and a worn brown leather wallet resting in his hands. Slowly, Robert undid the snap and let it fall open.

"And I'll never forget the look on her face," Luke added in a gruff voice, staring down at his drink once more, "when she came to the bar after Lucky was gone. She brought…God, what did she bring?…brownies. She brought me brownies. And she gave me a hug. And I remember feeling…so goddamn blessed that my son had a woman in his life that was everything that Laura was to me."

"She went through so much shit in her life, Robert," the older man mumbled, "and all before she was even old enough to drive. I promised myself when Lucky disappeared that I would take care of Elizabeth no matter what happened – it was what he would have wanted. And I did what I could, but sometimes I think that…Elizabeth was the one taking care of me. She was great with Lulu, she helped out Lesley, she was always dropping by to see me and Laura. I never really knew how to thank her – repay her – for everything, but she just told me that it was what family did. And that was the same thing I told her when she found out that…she didn't have to be afraid of that son of a bitch anymore."

Robert had pulled a folded square of paper out of his wallet and was staring at it, but looked up sharply at that remark. "You mean they got him, then? Locked him up?"

"Tom Baker died in prison three years ago," Jason spoke up softly, sharing a brief look with Luke. That was all that needed to be said; Robert didn't need to know about their man on the inside that had pulled a knife on the convict and thanked him for everything he did to Emily and Elizabeth before slitting his throat.

"Two days before his parole hearing," Luke smiled to himself, clinking his ice and raising his glass in a mock salute to the deceased. "But that doesn't mean he's gone. He was here tonight – I saw him in that look in her eyes when she walked in. He's still here, and sometimes I wonder if he'll ever leave her the fuck alone."

He was sorely tempted to throw his glass, just for the satisfaction of hearing it shatter into a million tiny pieces, but resisted because he needed another drink. "Just when you think enough time has passed…you're right back where you started. And you still don't know what the fuck to do."

"Or how the hell you're supposed to make it stop hurting," Robert agreed quietly, tapping the folded square of paper against his palm. Luke looked over at the sound, curious, and he realized what the document was before his best friend even finished unfolding it.

"Robert…"

"So many years since my source gave me this," the detective murmured, staring down at the faded font and chicken-scratch writing in the margin. Sonny leaned forward, craning his neck in order to see, then quickly drew back. Jason knew from the tears in his best friend's eyes that the document Robert held so gingerly in his aged hands was none other than Robin's blood test confirming her HIV status.

"I don't know what to do with it," he admitted quietly, his pale blue eyes scanning the writing he had long since memorized. "I can't throw it away. I can't stow it away with-with her birth certificate or my marriage license." He looked up, blinking away his tears. "And so I keep it with me – carry it like a goddamn millstone. All these years later, and I still can't explain why."

The sound of a blow dryer in the bathroom made Luke sit up and glance in the direction where his kids had disappeared, and Robert licked his lips. The first thing that he had noticed about Elizabeth Webber when she stomped into the bar complaining about chickens was that she resembled his daughter – she had the same dark hair, the same petite frame, the same pale skin, and even the same mischievous twinkle in her eyes when she thought she was being clever. But after seeing her face when she walked in through the tunnel, holding her torn clothes up around her, he could do nothing but imagine the look on his own daughter's face when she received her life sentence in the form of a blood test.

"You think you can be there," Robert continued softly, and Jason was surprised to see that for the first time since his 'resurrection', the commissioner appeared a tired, defeated old man. "You watch them sleep when they're little and you promise them that you'll always save them."

"You make yourself think that there's nothing you won't be able to do when it comes to them," Luke added.

"But you never let yourself think about what would happen if that's just not enough." Robert pinched the bridge of his nose, his head bent and his chin tucked into his chest. When he spoke again, his voice was ragged and hoarse. "I was in a dirty, damp flat in Tehran with Frisco when I got the wire. The Ayatollah had put out another _fatwa _that day on a novelist and the agency was called in to help the poor bloke escape with his head still attached."

Two tears had slipped past his pale lashes and coursed twin paths across his rough cheeks, following the traces of countless tears before them over the years. "I knew even without opening the envelope that it was about Robin. It was worse than I could have imagined. And I never wanted anything more at that moment than to be able to be with her, to tell her…to tell her that I would save her like I always did."

It was the most emotion he had ever seen from Robert Scorpio – not that it was saying much – and Jason found it less difficult at that moment to put aside his personal grievances with the man. At that moment, they were all just men in anguish over the women in their lives. There was no love lost between him and Robert, but in their own way, they would always share Robin. And it was slowly becoming clear to him that there was a chance that they might share Elizabeth, too, just as he and Luke clearly did.

"But I _couldn't_ save her," Robert lamented quietly, his fingers twined and tucked under his chin. "I couldn't even be with her."

"You were there, Robert." Luke's gruff voice jarred the detective from his trance and the other man stared at the Spencer, nonplussed. But Luke remained just as firm as before. "You were with us."

He rubbed a hand over his mouth, studiously avoiding the paper in Robert's hands. "It was Christmas, and I was at Sonny's penthouse. She was there with Stone…I remember standing by the tree waiting for her, and then there she was. She was wearing a long dress, and she had one of those things in her hair – those headbands girls sometimes wear. Neither of us knew that you were still alive…" Pursing his lips, Luke turned and looked directly at the man next to him – the man that he had defeated the Cassidines with, hunted down the Prometheus Disk with, his friend, his partner, a fellow father – and nodded once. "But Robert, you were there. You were there with both of us."

He wouldn't say it aloud, but there was nothing Luke had ever said to him that meant as much to Robert as those few words.

"She was very lucky to have you there with her," he replied honestly. "Just like…Elizabeth is lucky to have your son with her."

For reasons that he couldn't begin to articulate, Jason didn't like the sound of that. He knew that Lucky had helped Elizabeth before and that he obviously could get her through it again, but that still didn't prevent him from frowning at the mention of it. Maybe it was his own guilt – his own feelings that _he _should have been the one to run to her, to take care of her, just as she had once taken care of him. He didn't like sitting idly by any more than he did feeling like the one on the outside looking in, and at the moment he was forced to do both of those things. Lucky was the one that Elizabeth had turned to, and Jason didn't for a minute blame her for that. But he still wished there was some way he could help as well.

Luke nodded his head once, rolling his glass between his palms once more. His eyes were still hazy from the scotch, and his voice was beginning to slur when he spoke. "They were supposed to get married, you know."

Robert's brows rose in surprise at that, but he recognized an old man's wistful rambling when he heard it. Sharing an acknowledging glance with Sonny and a somewhat sympathetic one with Jason, the detective balanced his elbows on his knees and tented his fingers. "Were they?"

It was meant to be a statement, but Luke nodded anyway. The liquor was taking him to a place that he seldom went to himself except in his hazy, nostalgic daydreams on the rare occasions that he indulged them. "They were gonna leave Port Charles and move to New York City. Laura would have hated that they'd be so far away, but she'd know that it was what they needed and she'd tell herself to let them go, to let them grow."

He laughed to himself as the visions played out in front of him. "They'd have this tiny, cramped little apartment with dirty windows and peeling paint, but they'd like it because they'd get a good view of the park. Lucky would write and sing – and Elizabeth, Elizabeth would paint. She's an artist, you know."

"I didn't know that," Robert replied, knowing that this was something his old friend had to get out. The two of them were strange ducks; they had lived all of their lives for the moment, concentrating only on making it through the day alive and not bothering themselves with worries of the future. For a man who seized the moment and didn't think ahead, Luke Spencer sure had the future all planned out once upon a time.

"They'd have lots of little plants, even though Elizabeth would never remember to water them and Cowboy would tease her when they all died one after another." A rare smile lit up Luke's face, joyful and melancholy at the same time. "They'd eat Ramen Noodles and greasy pizza from the shop down the street. They'd never have enough money, but Lucky would rather die than ask me or his mom for help – that's not the kind of kid he is. They'd barely be able to make ends meet, but God damn, they'd be happy."

Luke sighed softly, not realizing the effect of his rambling on Jason and too drunk to stop if he tried. "They were gonna be so happy. Free as birds, the two of them. Just Cowboy and Lizzie against the world. Eventually, they'd get a little something saved up and move to a nicer apartment – with lots of big windows so that Elizabeth would get all the light through the day."

He turned to his friend, as serious as he could have ever been, and Robert just stared back. "They were gonna have kids, you know."

Again, his old friend had surprised him. Robert never realized that Luke had thought about his grandchildren – Lucky's children with Elizabeth – but it was clear that once upon a time, Luke had been eagerly anticipating them. "Really."

Luke nodded emphatically. "Oh, yeah. A little girl with Elizabeth's curly hair and eyes named Lacey Imogene. And a boy – Lucas Lorenzo Spencer III."

A soft sigh of surprise and sympathy broke the deathly silence in the bunker, and all three men besides Luke looked up abruptly. Jason swallowed hard when he saw Lucky and Elizabeth standing in the doorway of the washroom, their figures outlined by the bright golden light from behind them.

Robert gave her a quick once-over, as if to convince himself that she was really there and that she was all right. The brunette was dressed in Lucky's green pajama bottoms, which she had to roll up at the cuff, along with his t-shirt and her skin was flushed pink from the long, hot shower. Her hair was dry and straight, and she tucked it behind her ears as she watched Luke with empathy shining clearly in her expressive sapphire orbs. Lucky, too, was watching his father sadly, and it was clear that the two of them had heard all of Luke's grand plans for their intended once-upon-a-time future.

Jason's heart thundered slowly and rhythmically in his chest as Elizabeth patted her ex-boyfriend's arm once and then hesitantly made her way across the cold floor in her bare feet. Sonny sucked in a breath and even Robert went rigidly still as the brunette approached and finally slid down onto the cot next to Luke.

The older Spencer seemed to finally sense her presence and looked up at her with wide, lost eyes. Biting her lip, Elizabeth pried his glass out of his hands and set it on the floor, then slipped her smaller hand into his and squeezed tightly.

Luke looked down at their joined hands and lifted it to his lips, kissing it before covering it with his other hand. "I'm sorry, darlin'."

"Oh, Luke." Her eyes shimmered as she placed a finger under his chin and forced him to look at her. "This wasn't your fault. It was mine."

"I told you when I brought you down here that you'd be safe," he explained quietly. "And I couldn't deliver. I sent you right in where Helena was just waiting for you."

"You didn't know," she reminded him, cocking her head to find Robert's troubled gaze. "Neither of you knew. And this didn't happen because of Helena – from what I know, the librarian doesn't have a clue that I'm not really from Calvillo. This happened because…he was drunk and I was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

But it was as if Luke hadn't even heard her. "It was bad enough when you agreed to drink to the poison to help Nikolas prove his loyalty," he lamented. "I couldn't get to you in time, but when Barbara told me the plan, I was against it. I didn't want you to be up against that bat from Hell. And she's been watching you this whole time."

"Luke, she was watching out for the artifact, not me. Marco doesn't know-"

"This has to stop," Luke muttered, seizing her hands more fiercely. "It's fine when she comes after me or Robert – but targeting you and Robin…we can't let that happen." His best friend was nodding firmly. "I'm going to promise you one thing right now, Elizabeth, and I hope I die before I go back on my word: I will _not_ let Helena Cassidine hurt you."

"She didn't." A single tear slipped past her lush lashes, and Elizabeth quirked a brave smile for the man that was more of a father to her than her own dad. "Because I'm fine, Luke. I'm fine."

He opened his mouth to say something, then appeared to change his mind. Instead, he freed his hands from hers and pulled her gently against him, hugging her tightly when he saw that she didn't flinch. Elizabeth clung to him, not caring that Robert was watching or that Sonny and Jason were there, and Luke tangled one hand in her dark hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Nothing's more important to me than you and Cowboy," he murmured, resting his chin on top of her silky hair. "The trinket can wait. I just want you to be all right."

"I am," came her muffled voice, but it didn't take a genius – or a superspy – to figure out that she was putting up a brave front.

"Hey." Lucky's voice was quiet and hesitant as he sat down next to the brunette and his father. "It's pretty late – we should get to bed. Try to get some sleep. What do you think, huh, Elizabeth?"

She peeked out from under the protective shield of Luke's arms and yawned as if on cue, making Sonny smile softly. "Yeah, maybe…"

Reluctantly, Luke let her go and watched as she sat up, pulling her knees into her chest. With a sigh, he pushed himself to his feet – no easy task – and glanced at Robert. "I should wash up. I'll be right back, darlin'. You holler if you need me."

She smirked at that, watching as he ambled off, but the smile faded when Robert's shadow fell across her. Looking up, she could tell the detective wasn't quite sure of what to say. She knew that they had a lot to talk about – Helena, to be sure, but more specifically, the fact that she had neglected to mention the little detail to him. But when Robert dropped to one knee in front of her and awkwardly patted her hand, she knew he wasn't about to launch into a stern lecture.

"If you need me to do anything, you let me know, doll," was all the commissioner said before he nodded once to himself and stood, following his friend to the washroom.

Rubbing the back of her neck, Elizabeth slowly let go of her knees and stood up. Careful to avoid Sonny's concerned gaze – partly due to embarrassment and partly due to guilt over the fact that she had gone out of her way to make him feel like slime – she slipped past Jason and headed to her own cot not too far away.

But this time, the enforcer was not about to let her get away that easy. He had learned his lesson from that morning and was determined to talk to her. The brunette had managed to plop down on her makeshift bed and was holding her knees close to her chest when Jason stood and ambled over. He hovered a few feet away for a minute, then hesitantly crept forward until he was in front of her.

Elizabeth looked up, surprised, and visibly retreated just a little at his advance. But Jason didn't let that deter him. Moving slowly so as not to needlessly alarm her, he perched himself at the other end of her cot and waited until she met his gaze.

Jason's eyes were soft when she finally dared to peek timidly up at him, and Elizabeth could tell he wanted to touch her but forcefully held himself back. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but she could tell when he hesitated. Finally, he just blurted it out. "I wish there was something I could do instead of just ask you if you were okay. Because I know you're not…but you feel like you have to pretend you are."

She tucked her chin into her chest, letting her bangs fall across her eyes like a curtain. If she was honest with herself, she'd admit that there wasn't a single man in the bunker that would buy her act. Luke and Lucky knew her too well and for too long; Sonny could easily pick up on it, and Jason was a no-brainer. And Robert, even though he was new, seemed to have pretty sharp instincts and realized fairly quickly that she was acting.

But she couldn't break down in front of them; it was out of the question for her. Because the truth of the matter was that this was different than what had happened six years ago. She wasn't a scared little girl dealing with the trauma of being raped. She was twenty-two years old, and she had been groped roughly by a drunk. It was just that it brought back all those horrible memories that she fought so hard to force back. It was just fear and shock; nothing else. She'd get over it soon enough, she told herself.

"Actually, there _is_ something you can do," she replied softly, knowing that she had surprised him when she felt the cot jerk as he straightened.

"Tell me," Jason urged, his arresting blue eyes boring into hers.

She bit her lip and hugged her knees tighter to her chest. "You can stop looking like you're going to kill Luke and Robbie."

He sighed, drawing back slightly, but her eyes held him in place. "Elizabeth, they sent you in-"

"It wasn't their fault," the brunette responded firmly. "No one imagined that it was this big. Luke brought me down here thinking that I'd go in, get out, and be back home in a week." She shook her head, still worrying her bottom lip. "No one could have predicted this, Jason. And it's my fault more than anything."

Not knowing what to say, Jason finally gave in and let his actions take over. Without stopping to think and talk himself out of it, he reached out and swept her rich hair away from her face, tucking it behind the delicate shell of her ear and letting his fingers linger there.

The tender gesture shocked her, but to her credit, Elizabeth didn't pull away, though her body did tense up slightly. Their eyes locked, blue on blue, and a silent message passed there as Jason gently skimmed this thumb down the petal-soft skin of her jaw before acquiescing in a nod so slight that it would have been imperceptible had she not been seeking it. Letting out a sigh, Elizabeth lowered her head, resting her chin on her knees, and allowed herself a moment to draw in the security and comfort that Jason's presence offered.

He wanted to kiss her – to pull her close and press a kiss to where her hairline met her forehead – but Jason resisted. He allowed himself to take her hand once, to sweep his rough, calloused thumb over her pale, silky skin, before reluctantly standing and moving to his own cot a few feet away.

Luke and Robert emerged from the bathroom and surveyed the room. Actually, Robert surveyed – Luke teetered. The commissioner sought his old friend's shoulder and guided him over to his mattress, slinging the older Spencer down onto it like a bag of bricks. He noticed that the guards were pacing in the corner and that Sonny and Jason were both seated on their respective cots, weary from the ordeal. Lucky, too, was fluffing his pillow nearby, occasionally shooting a concerned glance Elizabeth's way. Robert peered at the young woman, noticing her rigid posture and how she hugged her knees to her chest, and called out gently.

"I'm going to turn off the lights – that okay with everyone?"

A chorus of murmurs answered him, but of course, Robert was only waiting to hear a certain one. Having received the affirmation, he shut off the lights and plunged the bunker into darkness. Moving quickly to his own cot, he reached inside his duffel bag and felt around until he found the item he was looking for. Giving it a quick shake to make sure it was operational, Robert switched the flashlight on and arranged it to stand vertically near his bed, casting a white circle of light on the ceiling.

Looking over at Elizabeth, he could see from the faint glow that her features had relaxed a bit thanks to his impromptu nightlight. He sat on his cot, waiting for her to finally let go of her knees and lay down on her bed. After what seemed like an eternity, the brunette slowly stretched out and slipped under her sheet, curling into a ball once more. Robert sighed and lay down as well, at a loss for what else to do to calm her nerves.

Lucky, apparently, had an idea. The men looked up as he stood up and grabbed his sheet and his pillow before stalking over to where Elizabeth lay. He spread the sheet out on the floor next to her, and set his pillow down before lying down on top of it and pulling the other half over him.

The brunette pushed herself up on her elbow, surprised but inwardly relieved that her ex was now on the floor right next to her bed. Even in the dim light, Lucky could see her small smile.

"Now go to sleep before I start singing the _Elizabeth_ song in front of everyone."

She huffed, secretly amused, and flopped down on her cot once more to try to get some sleep.


	15. 15

**Note: **Wow, holy cow, reading the feedback to updates of this has become one of the highlights of my day. Thank you, all of you who reply. How very nice. :)

Also, I changed one little thing about history here: at this point, no one knows that Brenda is alive. Sonny was gunned down by one of his men in front of the church as he stood looking at the fountain. Sonny and Jason know that Alcazar is dangerous and definitely a threat, but they do not know that he has Brenda Barrett on his yacht. That's not necessary for this chapter; just a future reference.

For this chapter…if I did it right, the scene in the bar should feel somewhat familiar.

* * *

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 15**

"At least Robert and Luke are thinking clearly now," Sonny said quietly, making sure to keep his voice low in the silent bunker. He and Jason, along with Johnny and Max, had retreated to the cots in the farthest corner of the room to have a conversation out of earshot of the rest of their slumbering companions. "They know not to send her back in again."

"Hopefully, they're also thinking that it might be time to back off," Jason agreed, rubbing his jaw. "They can get Lucky and Elizabeth out of here and put some guards on Robin in Paris, and then come back to fight Helena themselves."

"I think so," Sonny nodded. "And if they haven't gotten quite that far…we'll just nudge them in the right direction a bit."

Johnny and Max were exchanging skeptical glances, prompting a hard look from Jason. "What?"

The Irishman rubbed the back of his neck, a guilty little quirk he had picked up from Max. "Well, Boss, don't take this the wrong way…"

"Just say it, Johnny," Sonny barked before remembering himself and glancing around the bunker to see if he had woken anyone up. It was late – about eleven in the morning – but Robert, Luke, Lucky and Elizabeth were still sleeping like the dead.

"Okay," Johnny mumbled, relieved that neither Sonny nor Jason remained in possession of their firearms. "We think that's the dumbest shit we've ever heard either of you say."

To his credit, Sonny didn't say anything – he just smiled. He smiled that slow, smooth, sans-dimples smile that let Max know that Johnny's little gem was _not_ going over well.

"What he means," the Italian cut in, elbowing his best friend in the gut as both his employers turned to him for an explanation, "is that what you're saying is never gonna work."

Oh, yeah, like _that_ was any better.

Jason quirked a sandy brow humorlessly at the two guards, his mouth set hard, and Max rubbed his temples when he saw that muscle in his employer's jaw begin to tick. Suddenly, it didn't matter that the mobsters didn't have their weapons – they'd do the deed with their bare hands.

"John, you want to take this one?"

"The reason I say that," the Irishman started carefully, "is because you're counting one person out of the equation."

"And that would be?"

Johnny met Sonny's obsidian eyes directly without flinching. "Elizabeth."

The mob lord tented his fingers under his chin, the telltale sign that he felt he was being forced to have this conversation and was _not_ pleased. "She went through a lot last night," he said quietly, pursing his lips before reluctantly continuing. "It brought back really bad memories for her, and I don't think she's going to want to return to that place any time soon."

Max and Johnny once again exchanged glances. "And that's where we disagree."

Sonny opened his mouth to counter, but Max was quicker. "Look, Boss, we don't mean any disrespect, really," he began, putting his hands up in a gesture of good will. "But we know how Elizabeth thinks."

"And _we_ don't?" the kingpin asked, gesturing to himself and a scowling Jason.

"It's not that," Johnny assured him. "It's just that…we're the _guards_."

"And?"

"What do you pay us to do, Mr. Corinthos?" Max tried, leaning a little closer to the man.

"To rub the varnish off a door knob," Johnny muttered, thinking of his never-ending job of opening and shutting a damn door and receiving another jab to the gut for his trouble.

"You pay us to be your eyes and ears," the Italian finished, glaring at his best friend. "We go with you to your meetings and we screen all your guests. We're paid to pick up on the little things that you can't spend time thinking about. We _see_ everything – we just don't talk about it."

"And this means something because?"

"Because _we're_ the ones that were stuck watching Elizabeth all day and all night while you and Jason were out dealing with Courtney and Alcazar," Johnny shot back, momentarily forgetting that his equal footing with his boss would not last one step outside the bunker. "Do you _know_ what she does when she's angry? She throws shoes. And she's got _lots_ of shoes."

"And I know that you have been friends with Elizabeth for a long time," Max interjected with a considerable amount of tact. "She's obviously closer to you two than she is to us. But we're the ones that spent hours just watching her, listening to her, picking up on her mannerisms and her quirks-"

"And we're telling you that you've got her pegged all wrong," Johnny finished, his voice more accusing than he would have liked it to be. "The Elizabeth you know is the one that had a hard time dealing with Lucky's death, and then a hard time dealing with his un-death, and then a hard time picking between Lucky and Jason."

Both Max and Johnny studiously avoided Jason's dark glare and focused instead on Sonny. "Obviously, that's not who she is now," Max reasoned, gesturing toward the sleeping brunette. "She's older now, she's more experienced. You remember her as the little girl, and if you'll excuse me for saying this, you both put her up on a pedestal and don't know what to do when she refuses to stay there."

"Max-"

"Sir, we understand why you'd think that she'd agree to pack up and go home for her own safety," the Italian assured his employer. "It makes sense – it's totally, one hundred percent rational."

"And that's why she's never gonna do it," Johnny answered with a flourish of his hands.

"You heard everything Luke said last night," Max picked up again, leveling a meaningful gaze at both of his employers who fidgeted and looked away. "It was hard to hear some of that stuff – and I know Jason wasn't exactly thrilled to hear about all those babies Elizabeth was supposed to have with Lucky."

Johnny rolled his eyes. Yeah, Max was _definitely_ gonna be fitted with cement shoes once Jason was a safe distance away from the ever-watchful eyes of Robert Scorpio.

"But it proved exactly what she said when we first came down to Calvillo," the Italian added. "She said that Luke and Lucky were her family, and that she'd do anything to protect them like they'd do anything to protect her. And if Luke's whole schpiel last night didn't prove that, I don't know what does."

"She's his daughter in every way that counts, and it's obvious that she thinks of him as a father," Johnny agreed. "And that's why we don't think that she's going to let this setback slow her down."

"Setback? Is that would you'd call it?" Jason's arresting blue eyes narrowed into lethal slits. "She could have been hurt a lot worse last night, Johnny."

The Irishman closed his eyes, letting out a calming sigh. "I know that. And I thank God that she came back here safe. But the reality of it is that she _wasn't_ hurt like that. And you know what I think? I think that as soon as she fights back the fear and the bad memories, she's gonna be at it again."

"For one thing, she feels like she owes Robert and Luke." The tone of Max's voice indicated that he clearly knew what he was talking about. "Before, it was just a fun little mission – Luke even said that she'd be in, she'd be out, and they'd go home. But now that Helena Cassidine's been added to the mix…it's a whole other beast."

"It's not just a crazy adventure now," Johnny reminded them. "Elizabeth has personal grievances with Helena – damn personal. Helena's the reason she lost Lucky, and even though the two of them have gotten past that, I know that Elizabeth's nowhere near _close_ to forgiving Helena for what she stole from her."

Jason hated to admit it, but Johnny was making sense. It would be a shame to bury such an insightful man in cement.

"And if Helena is after the artifact, too, and if she's tied to Roy's death, do you really think Elizabeth is going to let it go?" The look in Max's eyes was clear indication that he did not. "Luke and Robert are on their home turf now – they've fought her in the past and won, but she keeps coming back; this is nothing new for them. And now she's out to fuck 'em over again, but this time, Elizabeth is already too deep in this for Luke to ship her off to an island before the shit hits the fan. Not that she'd let him, but I'm just saying."

"And of course, Elizabeth feels like she's their ace in the hole," Johnny added. "Sure, Helena knows that she can keep up with Luke, but to be honest, what did she do last time? She took a drink and fainted for a few hours. That's what Helena expects from her – something that will be quick and dramatic and allow Elizabeth to make a clean getaway. She doesn't expect the kid to run around with a knife strapped to her thigh and beat her in the race for whatever the hell it is she's after. And that's why Elizabeth is their secret weapon."

"She's not going to let this go," Max spoke up quietly. "She doesn't have it in her. I'm not saying that Luke won't try to send her home – he will. He doesn't even want Lucky going up against Helena. But I don't see either of them doing that. As soon as Elizabeth gets over her fear, somethin' tells me that she'll be going right back for more."

A long silence stretched out between the men. Jason and Sonny said nothing; they just stared gravely at each other, mulling over what the guards had said. Finally, the silence in the bunker was broken by the dull scrape of metal against the floor, and the men looked over to see that a slumbering Lucky was kicking the support of Elizabeth's cot. The activity continued for a minute more before the brunette propped herself up on her elbows and tried to figure out why her bed was slowly moving across the floor.

Jason watched as she swept her hair out of her face and stared grumpily down at her ex who was still kicking her in his sleep. He expected her to yell at him or poke him, and was surprised when the brunette sat up in bed and reached for her pillow. After a brief moment of sitting still with the pillow in her lap, she raised it above her head and brought it down on the blonde with a _thwump_, then repeated the action until she was fairly whalloping the boy.

Flinging the pillow onto the cot, she turned over and flopped down with a huff at the same time that a very confused Lucky shot up from the floor, looking around to see why he was being beaten by a mystery assailant. His confused gaze landed on Elizabeth, who appeared to be sleeping, and with a shrug, Lucky flopped down once more and went right back to sleep.

Sonny's lips twisted in a deep frown as he contemplated the brief scene. "Oh, man."

Johnny just shrugged, exchanging a quick glance with Max. "What did we tell ya?"

* * *

According to his waterproof, scratch-resistant wristwatch – courtesy of the Bureau, of course – it was well into the afternoon by the time Robert and his companions finally woke up. He and Lucky lumbered past Sonny and Jason – who looked like they were up to something illegal – to the washroom to shower and shave. When they got back, Elizabeth was beginning to emerge from her listless slumber, and Luke was moaning softly about stomach pumps.

The brunette slipped past them into the washroom to begin her morning beautification routine, which was comprised of even more agents than Robert had seen in a now-defunct nuclear laboratory in underground Bolivia. It took Luke a minute to push himself up and even longer to stand, and it was clear that he was going to be fighting the effects of last night's binge all day. Mumbling half-formed obscenities, the older Spencer staggered into the bathroom and despite the clunking and crashing noises that ensued, still managed to emerge before Elizabeth.

Brunch was a casual affair. Sonny and Jason had already eaten and remained clustered in their own little group, making Robert frown. Here he was, seasoned World Security veteran, stuck in a bunker with two of the most powerful mobsters on the east coast of the States, and his focus wasn't on hauling their asses to jail but on one Helena Cassidine. As soon as he was done with this little sport, he'd be back to hand Sonny and Jason their walking papers.

Luke polished off the last of his humble breakfast, having discovered that the secret to beating a hangover was bread and water the following morning, and took Elizabeth's plate from her when she was done. "How'd you sleep last night, darlin'?"

She shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable, and tucked her hair behind her ear. "I had a few bad dreams," she admitted, wrapping her hands around her ankles as she sat cross-legged on the floor.

"I think I did, too," Lucky announced, gulping down the last of his juice. He knew Elizabeth didn't want to dwell on her memory of last night's dreams, so a change of subject seemed in order. And as natural as it had been for him to swoop in and take care of her, right down to sleeping on the floor next to her like he used to and threatening to sing the song he had written just for her when they had been two crazy kids in love, he felt like he shouldn't overdo it. His presence helped her, he knew this, but it was also too reminiscent of her rape. He didn't want her to slip back into that state of depending on him like she did before; not for his own selfish reasons, but because he knew it would be a disservice to the woman Elizabeth was now. "I dreamt that I got an ass-kicking by a marshmallow."

"Strange," Elizabeth murmured with faux-concern, making Sonny and Jason smirk. Rising from the floor, she dusted off her jean capris and headed toward her cot. "I'm going to do some laundry. Anyone else need something washed?"

Receiving a chorus of negative answers, the brunette began digging through her bag and soon produced an armful of clothing that needed a run through the machine. Working her way through the maze of cots, she retreated into the closed off room next to the food storage facility and began to sort and load. She had always found the whole process of laundry soothing – the sorting, the re-sorting, the measuring out detergent – and was ready to devote at least an hour to it this afternoon. Besides, she liked to ride the dryer when her clothes were done being washed.

Thankfully, the rest of the men left her alone to do her work, giving her some much-needed time to herself, away from their concerned and watchful eyes. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the attention; to be sure, she did. She was grateful that Lucky had been around, and that Robert and Luke had done what they could in their own bumbling, fatherly way. And she was glad for Jason's presence. He had offered her his strength without even a hint of reproach, and he had made a point not to be overbearing in his concern. For the first time in almost two weeks, she was actually happy that he was here.

It took her a while to finish drying and folding all of her clothes and when she emerged from the little room, she found that the men were busy with their chores as well. With nothing better to do all day, they had taken up maintenance of the bunker as a way to thank the _Libertad_ party for their support and shelter. Lucky and Robert had changed the sheets on the used cots and made the beds, taking care to arrange them in clear rows so that passage between them was easy. Luke could be seen in the far corner, humming an old blues number as he swept up the bunker and shook the dustpan into a nearby wastebasket.

Johnny and Max were playing poker, using real chips – tortilla, not plastic – to play. Sonny was lounging around with another magazine that she had brought back for him a day or two ago, and Jason was, of course, doing his one-handed push-ups sans shirt.

"Show-off," Lucky muttered, gesturing in the enforcer's direction as she passed and earning a jab in the shoulder from the smirking brunette for his trouble.

"Jealous," she volleyed back, sticking out her tongue at him as she retreated to her cot to stack her clean clothes underneath it. After she had finished organizing and reorganizing her meager belongings, Elizabeth finally had to admit that there was nothing else for her to do. She didn't know how men like Luke, Robert, and Jason – all used to being free and running their own show – managed to stay cooped up in the bunker for days on end.

"I'm going upstairs," she called out to no one in particular and receiving a chorus of half-attentive murmurs in reply. With a shrug, she made her way toward the stairs and climbed up to the bar.

She had only been up a handful of times since she arrived, the first time being her first encounter with the great Robert Scorpio. A few men looked up when she entered the secret back quarters of the bar, but in general paid her little attention. They were all familiar with _la paloma_ and her quest, but they had their own mission to worry about: namely, ousting the Don and restoring much needed peace and stability to Calvillo after a century of violence and oppression.

As her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the bar, Elizabeth picked a small table in the back, out of the way, and slid onto the rickety chair. From her vantage point, she could survey all the inhabitants of the bar. There were only a few in today, and most of them sat at the bar conversing in low, serious voices. Things were getting increasingly dangerous as the Don's birthday approached. Tensions in the town were simmering, dangerously close to the boiling point, and the men of the _Libertad_ party were on edge as they waited for the perfect time to strike.

Her discovery of the stolen heirlooms had only added fuel to the fire; more men had since joined the cause when word spread through the secret circles of the town. They were all lying in wait, ready to seize back the precious heirlooms that belonged to their forefathers. She knew that one of the main reasons that the party was delaying their strike was because of her and _Señor Roberto_. They needed to find the artifact and disappear with it before a public attack on the Don was made.

Also, Robert's colleague from the Bureau – the one that the commissioner had promised would aid Emmanuel and his men in their struggle to oust the warlord and set up a tribunal before establishing a democratic government – would be arriving in one or two more days. It was cutting it rather close; they had been lucky so far that the arrival of eight Americans in the one-horse town hadn't been noticed. She didn't think that they should push their luck any further by hoping to bring in another foreigner so soon. No, she needed to be able to get back in the house and bring the artifact home as soon as possible – maybe even tomorrow – so that they could leave and the party could proceed with their plans. And with any luck, they'd be long gone from Mexico by the time the coup was staged and Helena received word of it.

If all that was going to happen, she needed to get back into the house as soon as she possibly could. Luke wouldn't like it – she didn't think any man in the bunker would – but Elizabeth firmly believed that it was what needed to be done. Her main goal was to get past her fear, because this time, it wasn't just about her. If Helena was after the artifact, that meant it was very valuable to her – valuable enough to kill Roy for and infiltrate the house of a killer. And if something was _that_ valuable to the Cassidine Queen…then it was _not_ good news for the rest of them. She had no idea what Helena needed the ruby necklace for, and she didn't think any one wanted to wait and find out.

More than anything, Elizabeth wanted to talk to Magda. She couldn't help but wonder what was going on at the house during her day off – did word of the attack leak out? Did the librarian remember her lurking in the hallway and see her as a potential threat to his mission? Did the Don notice her absence? Those were the questions that plagued her, and Elizabeth reminded herself to ask Emmanuel later that night to see if Magda had sent a message for her.

She stretched out in her rickety seat and looked under the table when her foot brushed against something soft. A calico kitten sat huddled near the center support of the table and Elizabeth reached for it, picking the warm, furry little creature up and depositing it in her lap.

One of the men passed her a beer and a straw, just in case, and Elizabeth used the plastic tube to amuse the little kitten, which batted away at it with its small paws. Stroking the animal behind its tiny ears, she cracked open her beer and took a long pull. It was cold and crisp in the sweltering afternoon heat, the perfect refreshment on a not-so-perfect day.

She picked the kitten up, deciding to name it Wildcard for as long as it was hers, and held it against her cheek. The creature mewed and purred, squirming in her gentle hold as it tried to swat at the drinking straw that lay nearby on the table. Acquiescing, Elizabeth set the animal down on the somewhat grimy surface and watched as it played with the flexible plastic straw.

She was so engrossed in the little kitten's antics that she barely heard the scuff of motorcycle boots on wood until Jason appeared right next to her. Elizabeth looked up in surprise but the enforcer didn't say anything. Instead, he simply slid onto the empty seat right in front of her and quirked a brow at the kitten.

"Wildcard."

"Oh."

A long silence stretched out between them. One of the men passed Jason a beer, which he received gratefully and opened immediately. The kitten finally abandoned the straw and turned toward the newcomer, venturing closer to the cold bottle that he placed on the table. But when Elizabeth tapped her fingers on the rim of the table, Wildcard scurried right back to her and hopped down into her lap, purring for her attention.

She sighed and stroked the little animal, feeling its rapid heartbeat under her palm. She was probably the first person that had paid attention to the little guy. In a damn town overrun with cats, as Robert would say, it was easy for a small kitten to get lost in the mix.

Jason was watching her silently as she played with the animal, giving it her full attention. He supposed this was going to be just like all the other times he'd sat down with her – she'd ignore him and eventually someone else would intervene and take her away. And that was why he was surprised when she lifted her gaze to meet his, smirking at him from across the table.

"So…last time I checked, Luke and Robbie were still alive."

He rolled his eyes, unable to suppress a smirk, and just shrugged. She was playing with the kitten again – Wildcard, he reminded himself – and Jason scratched his jaw as he watched her. "Can you tell me something?"

The request surprised her, he could tell, and the brunette looked at him cautiously. "What?"

"Why do you _like_ them?"

Elizabeth chuckled, holding the kitten up against her cheek before setting it down on the table to play. "You can't help who you like."

A fair response. Jason retreated, clinking his nails against the glass bottle as Wildcard began to lap at the ring of water that had formed around the base of Elizabeth's beer. The men at the bar raised their voices, and from the tone of their voices were clearly having an argument. One of them – a tall, wiry young man of about twenty-two – stood and appealed to their reason, and the men calmed down and resumed sipping their whiskey as they discussed their plans.

The setting almost made Jason laugh. Two weeks ago, the idea of sitting in a run-down bar in Mexico with a senile old man and an aging superspy – not to mention the woman he loved - as members of a guerilla organization planned a coup against the established ruler would have been entirely inconceivable to him. But now it seemed so…familiar. It was a very unsettling feeling, but he couldn't deny it.

He knew every single man in the bar; he knew their family background, their upbringing, and their motivations and aspirations. To hear them plotting a coup and planning to set up a tribunal afterwards was nothing out of the ordinary. But that wasn't the strange part – what unnerved him most was how familiar _Elizabeth_ was with the town.

From her long discussions with Luke and Robert, it was clear to him that she knew the small town like the back of her hand. In the short time that she had been around the other women, she learned all the convenient short-cuts and safe, out of the way spots in the town where the Don's men were rarely posted. She knew the important families, she knew everyone that worked in the Don's employ, and she even had the complete floor plan of his house stored safely away in the back of her mind.

It was very strange to see her in a position like this. He was so used to seeing her as the friend, the granddaughter, the artist, and the waitress, that in his mind that was what he had confined her to. And to realize that not only was she in command of her situation in the town, but that she was in her element, was rather unsettling to him.

Part of him was beginning to think that Johnny and Max knew what they were talking about. This Elizabeth was much different than the Elizabeth he had met that night at Jake's – she was even much different than the Elizabeth that had stormed out of his penthouse after telling him he'd better enjoy being Sonny's enforcer first, last, and always.

He was lost in his trance, studying her carefully as he tried to figure out precisely how she was different, when a large gray tabby cat hopped onto the empty chair beside his. He didn't move as the creature circled the seat of the chair and stretched before leaping gracefully on the surface of the table. It arched its back when it saw Wildcard splashing the ring of condensation from the bottle, pulled back its lips to bare its sharp teeth, and yowled.

Elizabeth frowned when the kitten retreated into itself, recoiling into a shivering ball of white, black and orange fur, and then shot into the safe haven of her lap like a bullet. Triumphant, the older cat circled around the table, taking care not to upset the two glass bottles, and lay down comfortably at the center.

Jason lifted his gaze to Elizabeth, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling when he saw the displeased glimmer in her dark sapphire orbs. With a huff, the brunette stomped her foot and waved her hand at the cat, shooing it off the table and paying no heed to its irritated hiss. The tabby appeared to scowl at her before slinking back into the shadows.

Wildcard was still huddled in her lap and Elizabeth protectively encircled the little runt with her hands. Her lower lip stuck out in a pout as she stroked between his ears using just her index finger.

"I hate being afraid."

The words were quiet in the buzzing bar, and Jason had to strain to hear them. His heart constricted in his chest when he thought about how young she suddenly sounded. He knew Elizabeth was strong – there was no doubt in his mind about that – and he was beginning to believe what Johnny had said about her jumping right back into the mess when she was ready. But all of that still didn't mean that she didn't get to be afraid.

"I know."

If she heard him, she didn't let on. "It's amazing how easy it is to fall back into that trap. You finally find a way to pull yourself out; you go on for years without falling into it again, and then something happens and it's like you're right back where you started."

She stomped her foot, pursing her lips in that stubborn pout of hers in an attempt to keep her lips from quivering as she tried to soothe the kitten. "I hate it."

He didn't say anything this time. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, wrapped his fingers around his cold bottle of beer, and waited for her to continue.

"It's all about power, you know. Power – what a joke. You fool yourself into thinking that you have that power back, that you have that power over yourself again. And then in one moment, one thought, it's gone. And all that happens is that you're reminded of the first time you lost it, and you begin to think that maybe you never got it back, and that you never will."

"But you have to ask yourself what you mean when you think of power," Jason interjected quietly after a long moment of strained silence. "Because…pulling yourself back up again and again even when it's so easy to fall back in…Elizabeth, that sounds like power to me."

She looked up at him cautiously, refusing to be pulled in too quickly by the comfort his words offered. Words and comfort were both cheap; she'd learned that lesson many times over in the past.

He folded his hands on the table, regarding her seriously when he finally lifted his heavy gaze to meet hers. "I guess it's because…we only see what we lose every time, not what we gain."

* * *

The sun had already set on Calvillo by the time Elizabeth wandered back downstairs with a little kitten tucked away in the crook of her arm. Jason followed not too long after, earning a suspicious look from Robert that he ignored entirely. The two of them might be unified in their affection for Robin and Elizabeth, but that didn't mean he had to like the son of a bitch. He had absolutely no respect for Robert Scorpio – no respect for the type of man that would let his family think he was dead just to fulfill his own personal lust for adventure – and he didn't see that changing any time in the foreseeable future.

Dinner was served shortly after the two of them returned downstairs. Luke ate a heartier portion this time and seemed to have made a remarkable recovery from his stunt the night before. Mealtime conversation was fairly limited until Lucky chomped down on a particularly potent pepper, which Jason had to admit was pretty damn funny. After the boy had guzzled down a fair amount of milk to neutralize his reaction to the spice, the action died down once more.

Looking over at Johnny and Max, Jason noticed that even while the two men ate, they still appeared on the job. Their eyes were always darting around the room, and they were tuned in to movement from all sides. They were right – they _did_ see all; they just rarely voiced it. Glancing at the company himself, it didn't take Jason long to see what was happening. Robert and Luke were studiously avoiding any topic even remotely related to Helena Cassidine, the artifact, or the house of Good Fortune. Regrettably, that didn't leave much to talk about, and Jason was pretty sure he'd want to shoot himself in the foot just to provide a distraction if the two of them started sharing stories about 'the good old days' again.

Elizabeth took the dishes from dinner upstairs and washed them in Teodoro's sink in the back, more to give herself something to do than to actually be helpful. Lucky flopped down on his cot with his walkman while Luke and Robert seized the moment to retreat to the far corner of the bunker and whisper together for twenty minutes. When the brunette reappeared downstairs the two old men appeared as if they were poring over a Spanish newspaper and thankfully for them, Elizabeth didn't appear to care much.

Instead, she headed over to her own cot next to the one Lucky was occupying and the two of them just lay sprawled out on the flimsy beds, talking quietly and laughing over their own stories. After about two hours, though, the conversation on all fronts had died down. Lucky and Elizabeth were both asleep and snoring, and Luke and Robert felt it best to retire as well. Faced with this, Sonny and the guards had little choice but to wash up and turn in as well.

Jason had just returned from the washroom and was dressed in only his cotton pajama bottoms when he noticed a small mass of fur scurrying across the swept floor of the bunker. Upon following it through the maze of cots, he saw that it was none other than Wildcard. Elizabeth had allowed the kitten to stay on the cot with her while she and Lucky hung out, but the little creature had been in the mood to explore and had hopped off to do so. And now that it was down, it couldn't get back up on its own.

With a sigh, Jason bent down to pick the kitten up, earning a few barely-suppressed guffaws from Johnny and Max when Wildcard tried to escape his clutches and forced him to run after it, half-bent forward. He managed to scoop the little animal up and avoided its tiny, pricking claws as he crept over to where Elizabeth slept.

The brunette's hair was in her face, her arm curled up near her chest with a small space for Wildcard in the crook of her elbow. Carefully, Jason lifted her hand and set the kitten down, waiting as it cuddled up against her stomach and yawned. Gently, so as not to wake her, Jason used his fingertips to gently brush her hair away from her face and tucked it behind the shell of her ear. She murmured something incoherent and shifted, still fast asleep.

It seemed like the most natural thing in the world for him to lean down and press a kiss to her temple. She murmured something again, snuggling down into the pillow and smiled a sleepy, half-smile. Her first smile just for him.


	16. 16

**Note: **Thanks for all the feedback! This is for **Nicole**/NikolNora. Honestly, though, I'm so completely thrilled that for the most part, you guys are as addicted to this story as I am. I literally eat, sleep, breathe and _live_ this story. It's quite sad. This one is a bit long.

* * *

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 16**

Jason awoke the next morning to the sound of Luke's urgent voice as the older Spencer shook the slumbering detective that lay snoring a few cots away.

"Robert! Robert, wake up!"

"Huh?" The commissioner was still half-asleep and swiped at Luke in his sleep as Sonny rose from his cot with a yawn. "You'll…never make me talk. Scum like you never win. Not with Agent Robert Scorpio on the job…Go for the probes…You can't break me, you godless…"

"ROBERT!"

That pulled the tired detective from his sleep and Jason watched, confused, as Robert shot up from his cot and looked around wildly as if he expected to be attacked by savages at any moment. "What? What?"

"She's on the move," Luke hissed, gesturing to Elizabeth who was already dressed in her _sabana_ and midriff top and scurrying around the bunker. "Do something!"

"Max," Johnny called, poking his best friend in the shoulder. "Dude, get your ass up. You're missing the show - we totally called it."

"What…what the hell is she doing?" Robert wondered aloud, his gray brows furrowed as he watched the little brunette tie on her belt. "This isn't a Serbian jail."

"Will you get off it?" Luke yelled, gesturing wildly at the oblivious young woman. "You're not in a Serbian jail, I'm not trying to make you talk, and you're not being probed!"

"But you _are_ godless, correct?" Robert couldn't resist needling his friend as he rose from his cot and stretched. "What's going on here? Elizabeth? What are you up to, there?"

She looked up as if just seeing him for the first time and smiled. "Morning, Robbie."

"Uh, morning," the detective murmured, running a hand through his thinning hair. "Would you mind telling me what you're doing?"

Johnny elbowed Max in the gut, covering his mouth with his hand to hide a grin. "This is gonna be good. I bet the vein in Luke's forehead explodes."

The brunette blinked back at him. "I'm getting ready to go back to the house."

"See? _See!_" Luke Spencer was seeing red, which was the same color as his complexion at the moment. "She thinks she's going back to that god-forsaken villa!"

"Honestly, Luke, come on," Elizabeth huffed, rolling her eyes and making it clear that she didn't take his ranting seriously for a minute. Naturally, this did little but infuriate the older man. "It's time to get back in there."

"Oh, really," he replied witheringly, setting his hands on his hips and gyrating in an exaggerated fashion. "On whose authority? I mean, are _you_ in charge here? Are _you _running this show? Or are you just being crazy!"

"Elizabeth," Robert tried calmly, shooting a worried glance at his hyperventilating best friend. "Now, hold on a minute, let's have a sit-down and talk this over-"

"There's no time, Robbie," she explained, brushing her hair out of her face and adjusting her skirt. "The sun's going to be up soon, and I have to get to the house and walk over with the girls."

"You're not going!" Luke honestly didn't understand why this was such a difficult concept to get across. "There's no way in Hell I'm going to let you out of the bunker! I'm not above tying your little butt down to that chair and keeping guard over you with a rifle, Sparky. So you can make this easy on yourself, or I can-"

"Luke, I'm going." There was no mistaking the conviction that glittered in her hard sapphire orbs as the petite brunette stared up at the older man. "And that's it."

"Oh, Christ," Robert muttered as Johnny and Max began elbowing each other and trying not to look too smug in front of Sonny.

Lucky slipped past his enraged father and retreated to safer company. Jason quirked a brow at him as the boy quietly slid onto the cot next to him and Lucky pursed his lips in reply, aware of the gravity of the situation. Both Luke and Elizabeth had volatile tempers, and this had the potential of getting very ugly, very soon.

"Dude," Johnny whispered, punching Lucky in the shoulder as he hunkered down next to him. "They're gonna kill each other – I'm talkin' bloodbath here."

"Looks like it," Lucky agreed with a sigh, trying his best to be inconspicuous lest either side called him in for support.

"Over my dead body!"

"Luke-"

"Elizabeth, I mean it. You sit your ass down right there and don't you move until I find some good, strong rope!"

"As if! I'm going!"

"Like HELL you are!"

"Fine – that can be arranged!"

"ROBERT!"

The commissioner looked as bewildered as the younger Spencer. "What the hell do you expect _me_ to do?"

Luke glowered at him, furious. "You stow her away in a closet or pull that hypnosis crap or something – what the hell did the World Security Bureau teach you? Do _something_ before-"

"Luke, I'm not arguing with you – I'm going! I'm the only one that knows what the artifact looks like and without me-"

"You're not indispensable, Elizabeth," the older Spencer informed her, wagging a finger down at the young woman. "We can do this just fine without you."

"Oh, yeah," the brunette had the sense to scoff, "and that's why you sat around playing tiddly-winks while I was on the inside? You _need_ me, Luke – get over it."

"Let me tell you somethin', darlin'." Luke stalked closer until he was so close to her that Elizabeth had to tip her head back to look him in the eyes. "Scorpio and I have been doing this since before you were born. It'll be a cold day in Hell when I need a snot-nosed kid to carry out my plans."

"Well, get out your mittens," the brunette simmered, her small hands curling into fists. "You may not like it, Luke, but without me, you've got nothing. No clue about the artifact, no in, no escape, nothing. You're right back to square one."

The older man pursed his lips, huffing, and appeared as if he intended to throttle the young woman. "We've been in worse situations and gotten out-"

"Like, a billion years ago," Elizabeth muttered, blowing her bangs out of her face.

"-and we're prepared to keep you down here and do this our way."

"Oh, you've got a plan, Luke?" the brunette preened, batting her lashes at the irritated man and only making him angrier in the process. "I'd love to hear it – enlighten me, will you?"

"She's asking for it," Max sighed, climbing over the cot and taking a seat between Lucky and Jason. "I mean, I know you guys are like family, but…Luke's gonna take her to the cleaners."

"She'll get her digs in," Johnny assured him. "He won't know what to do with her."

"Dance like a butterfly, sting like a girl," the Italian snickered, eyeing the two opponents as they squared off once more in the ring.

Luke's eyes were blazing as he faced the infuriatingly stubborn young woman before him. "It's just a little change in direction – the party steps up their plans to oust _El Bloato_ over there. They've been wanting to do this sooner but you've been holding them up."

As intended, the barb made the little woman glare furiously up at him from under a curtain of dark hair. Satisfied, Luke let the corner of his mouth curl up as he revealed the rest of the tentative – _extremely_ tentative – plan. "Robert and I pitch in and the party gets him out. Then we've got free reign to get in there and find the necklace, and we're out. Hell, I can send you home right now and proceed according to plan and get this whole thing taken care of."

"Really," Elizabeth smirked, arching her brow to convey her blatant skepticism. Naturally, her professed impertinence did not sit well with Luke. "And if you do that – what makes you think you'll be alone?"

"Come again?" Robert was staring at her curiously, wondering what angle the girl was working.

"Well, I'm sure you've thought of this already," Elizabeth sighed pointedly, crossing her arms over her chest and arching her back in calm indifference. "I mean, this coup you're talking about isn't going to be instantaneous. It's going to take some time – most likely, there's going to be a standoff. The Don's villa is very well-fortified, you know. Oh, wait," she chuckled, resting a hand over her heart. "You _don't_ know – you've never been inside. I guess you'll just have to take my word for it, though."

Her lips curled into a wicked smirk as she sized up her adversary, her confidence further boosted when Luke shot Robert a discreet look. "Anyway, it's very well-fortified – trust me, Don Buenaventura is prepared for an uprising. So it'll take Emmanuel and his boys a while to finally crack his castle, even with you two super-spies on the job."

Robert frowned, crossing his arms solidly over his chest, and Luke glared darkly at her.

"In that time," Elizabeth continued, running her fingers casually through her hair and not noticing the appreciative looks Johnny and Max were directing at her, "I'm sure you'll gain a considerable amount of press, not to mention scare the poor people on the inside that work for the Don. Like, for example…the librarian." She grimaced, her bravado cracking for a moment and actively suppressed the memory of what happened two days ago.

"I'm sure he'll be terribly worried that his place of residence is under attack," she continued with faux-concern. "He'll probably want to call in some help. Gee, I wonder who? Possibly…Helena? And if one of her men – not to mention another interest of hers – is in danger, I'm sure she'll want to send in reinforcements." The brunette shrugged casually, twisting a lock of hair around her finger as she watched Luke's hands curl into fists. "She's just loyal like that, you know? And with me safe at home, it's going to take you geniuses a while to find the artifact, even if I describe it to you. In that time, I'm sure you'll attract enough attention for the librarian to start nosing around, and if his friends pitch in and help out, he'll be able to take care of both the artifact _and_ you two."

She tipped her head to side, a slow, smooth, cocky grin making her lips curl. "But I'm sure you already thought about that, Luke – I mean, you _have_ been doing this since before I was born."

A tense silence stretched between the young woman and the old man, and was broken only by Max's discreet chuckle.

"Check and mate," he snickered, elbowing a nervous Lucky.

"You're not going!"

"I am, too!"

It certainly hadn't taken long for the two foes in question to explode, and Jason and Sonny exchanged apprehensive glances at the latest altercation. Both Luke and Elizabeth made a valid case – the brunette was correct in saying that she was crucial to this mission and that it was too late for her to pull out and go home, and of course, Luke was right in wanting to tie her to a chair for her own safety.

"I'll take my chances with Helena – I always have!"

Fuming, Elizabeth decided she had enough with the physical disadvantage of being so much shorter than Luke and having to look up at him. She climbed onto a cot, scooping her sandals up from on top of the sheets and gripping them fiercely as she scowled down at the older Spencer. "It'll be over before it begins! The best way to do this is quietly-"

"Well, our resident bookworm certainly helped us out there, didn't he?" Luke spat, only to be drowned out by the rest of her argument.

"Helena doesn't know we're here, Luke," Elizabeth pointed out testily, pointing her finger directly at him. "From what I know, Marco doesn't suspect a damn thing. He thinks he's the only one looking for this necklace, and that I'm just some farm girl from the village. What better set-up could you ask for?"

"I'll tell you – I could ask for you to stay here and let us handle this!"

A cork sandal flew from her hand and landed on the floor next to Luke with a loud _thump_, making Johnny jump slightly. "What did I tell you about the shoes, huh?" he asked, looking at Sonny and Jason. "Man, I totally called this shit."

"If no one knows I'm there, why the hell is it so crazy for me to go back and finish what you brought me here to do!"

"Because I won't let you get hurt!" Luke yelled, the veins in his forehead bulging from the veritable explosion of emotion. "You're asking me to send you back in there with a guy that almost…" He couldn't quite force the word out, so he switched gears. "I'm not letting you get near that monster again, Elizabeth! Let someone else handle this!"

"But I'm the best person for the job!" she raged, her own cheeks blooming with a hot, angry red as she tightened her grip on the remaining sandal. "Why can't you _get_ that? I've been there for a week – all the girls know me, all of the other workers there know me, all of the Don's guards know me. And Hell, even the _Don_ himself knows me!"

Her eyes were blazing with fury and excitement and though Luke tried to counter, she didn't let him get a word in edgewise.

"I know that house like the back of my hand, Luke. I've got the floor plan right here," she added, tapping her temple. "I can get around there real quick, and I know all the exits and shortcuts and the little hideaways where his men don't really look. I know how to get access to the chapel – Buenaventura practically _expects_ to see me there – and I know the general location of the artifact. It won't take me long to get in the hidden room and search it, and I'll be out before dinner and we can get out of here without Helena even knowing about it. Isn't that what we all want?"

"Not at that cost," Luke countered, shaking a fist at her to emphasize his point. "There are better ways, Elizabeth, and I-"

"You're being _ridiculous_!" she seethed. "You're not listening to anything I have to-"

"I'm being ridiculous? Me? You're the nutjob that wants to go back in there with a would-be rapist and psychotic warlord and you think that _I'm_ the one that-"

"ROBBIE!"

"Damn it! Robert!"

Again, the detective threw his hands in the air. "What the hell do either of you want me to do?"

"Tell him to let me go!" Elizabeth commanded, pointing at Luke as if she were a child and he the harsh, unreasonable parent.

"Tell her to sit down and shut up!" Luke yelled, gesturing wildly at the incorrigible young woman.

"I need a drink," Robert muttered, turning away from the duo and making his way toward the single-malt he kept under his cot.

"I'm not sending you in!"

"If this is Helena Cassidine, you can't afford _not_ to send me in!"

"I'd rather eat my foot than send a green-as-corn kid-"

"Then get out the goddamn ketchup!"

"When the hell did you get so batshit crazy?"

"I had a good teacher!"

"You're out of your league if you think you can go up against Helena Cassidine – all you did before was gulp down some wine and go to sleep for an hour! This isn't-"

"_Exactly!_ And because of that, she'll never see me coming! I'll get in, get it, get out and we'll be long gone by the time she figures out that she's got Marco on a wild goose hunt!"

"And you're ready to go back in that house and face the librarian – after what he did?"

Her hard, resolute sapphire orbs met Luke's equally determined ones and Elizabeth pursed her lips together, taking a moment for herself before replying. "Yes."

"You're ready to see him again?" Luke pressed, inching closer in an attempt to intimidate her into submission.

"It beats sitting around here all day!" the brunette exclaimed in exasperation, spreading her arms to indicate the bunker. "It beats doing nothing but wandering around, thinking about what happened and scaring myself shitless! At least I'll be able to _do_ something – something that keeps my mind off all that _and_ helps me feel like I'm paying that asshole back for what he tried to do!"

The hint of tears in her raw voice made Luke's eyes soften, and the older man let out a soft sigh as he contemplated how to respond to that. He hated fighting with Elizabeth; he understood her point but he had to think about it from his perspective. If there was any alternative – any alternative at all – to sending her back into the same house as that bastard, he'd take it. Even if it was riskier, even if it meant they'd have to stay here longer, even if it meant he had to dress in drag and go in there himself as Rosalinda's slightly deformed cousin…he'd do it if it meant that Elizabeth wouldn't have to face that man.

But her impassioned plea gave him reason to pause, if only for a moment. She had been fairly quiet during her 'day off' – she had slept most of the morning away, done her laundry in blissful solitude, retreated upstairs for a drink, and then cloistered herself away with Lucky, her living security blanket at times like these. Her hell was in her mind as memories of a fateful Valentine's Day night fought to pull her back down. He understood her additional reason to want to free herself from that…but it wasn't good enough.

"You let _us_ pay him back," Luke replied quietly, knowing the directive was not going to go over well but having no other way to articulate it. "There's no need for you to put yourself in that position again-"

"At least this time I'll be prepared," she shot back hotly, her hands curled into fists once more. "You think I'm just planning on waltzing by him, flashing a smile and maybe a little leg? Hell fricking no – I'll do my best to avoid him, sure, but if I have to face him, I'm going to damn well be prepared and ready."

"Just like you were prepared and ready when you shot Mr. Murty?" Luke fired back, not pausing to wonder if he'd gone too far even though he noticed Lucky flinch in his peripheral vision.

Elizabeth simmered with barely controlled rage at the mention of one of her most painful mistakes, but refused to back down. "I'm not sixteen anymore, Luke."

Her calm, cold voice had him at a loss, and Luke could do little but huff angrily and look around for reinforcement. His fiery blue eyes finally landed on his son and he raised his hand to point directly at the boy. "You – what do you think?"

"Me?" Lucky looked as if he'd rather walk across broken glass than answer the question, and both Johnny and Max physically distanced themselves from him by scooting over on the cot lest they be called on, too. "I think…I think that if Elizabeth thinks that she's ready to go back in…then I'm not really anyone to say that she isn't."

Robert's eyebrows rose and he looked at his best friend, who simply stared at his son through narrowed eyes.

Letting out a growl, Luke glared daggers at the younger Spencer. "You're even dumber than I tell people!"

Lucky rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh, not acknowledging Elizabeth's relieved look of gratitude for his support.

"You're not going."

"Oh, yeah, I am."

"What does Jason have to say about this, I wonder?" Luke mused aloud, stroking his chin as he turned in the suddenly uncomfortable mobster's direction.

"Jason better not say _anything_ if he knows what's good for him," the brunette replied sweetly, smiling at the enforcer.

Johnny snickered when Jason glanced at Sonny, who put his hands up to indicate surrender and gracefully bowed out of the entire discussion.

"Oh, come on, Jason," Luke coaxed with an exaggerated air of magnanimity. "You can speak your mind here – it's a free country."

"Actually, it's not," Elizabeth reminded her estranged boyfriend. "We'll need our passports to get back into that _free_ country of ours."

"Damn it," Luke muttered, glaring first at the smug young woman and then the enforcer. "Morgan, prove you've got some _cojones grandes_ for once and tell the gidget to sit her butt down."

"I…" Jason glanced at his worthless friends for some help, swallowing when they all quickly averted their gazes. "I…don't like it at all."

"Ha!" Luke whooped, pumping his fists in triumph and gloating over the scowling brunette. "You've been served, darlin'! Way to go, Morgan – you're still good for something."

"…_But_," Jason continued, clasping his hands together and balancing his elbows on his knees.

"But?" Luke repeated, as if he had heard wrong. "_But_? No, no – there's no _but_. Don't go French on me now, Morgan!"

"Don't tell him what to do," Elizabeth replied witheringly, smacking Luke on the shoulder.

Jason waited for them to quiet down. "But," he continued, "…I trust Elizabeth. I think she can do it." He glanced apprehensively at the brunette, who wore a small, surprised smile on her face. "But I still don't like it."

"Oh, you're worthless," Luke muttered. "Some enforcer – letting a baby-faced girl lead you around by the di-"

"All right, all right," Robert finally cut in, shaking his head at Luke's petulant mumbling. "Look, there has to be a way for all of us to calmly discuss this like the rational adults and heartless criminals we are."

Sonny started at the remark, looking around to see if any of his other three friends were offended.

"If we just have ourselves a nice little sit-down, I'm sure we can decide how to best proceed from here on out. This is a very delicate situation and we can't take-"

The detective was interrupted in the middle of his peace-making routine by an elaborate and deliberate knock on the heavy wooden door to the bunker, and all eight of them looked over as Pedro opened it. Robert and Luke both turned around as six young women stepped into the bunker and immediately seized the attention of the members of the party who were lounging around nearby.

"_Pedro, dónde está Emmanuel?"_ A striking wisp of a brunette with coffee colored skin and rich almond eyes scanned the bunker with an air of confidence and superiority, quirking a brow when her gaze landed on the smirking man in question.

"Magda!" Elizabeth exclaimed happily, clapping her hands together as she remained standing on top of the cot. "What are you doing here? Guys, this is Magda."

Robert's eyes widened at the information and the older detective beat Emmanuel over to the young woman, who couldn't have been more than nineteen. "_Hola, señorita_. _Soy Roberto-"_

"I know this, _Señor_," she responded warmly with only a slight accent as she slid her small hand into his and shook it firmly. "It is a pleasure to meet you. Emmanuel has told me much about how you and your friends will help us remove the Don from our city."

Jason glanced over at Emmanuel, the stoic leader of the _Libertad_ party and was surprised to see a small smile on the young man's face as he watched Magda. His eyes were softer when she was around, and he watched her with almost a protective gaze.

"Luke and I would like to thank you," Robert replied sincerely, his hands still enveloping her small one. "We'd like to thank you very much for helping Elizabeth."

"It was no trouble," she replied, looking over at the brunette with a smile. "_Hermana, _are you ready?"

"Almost," Elizabeth answered with a smile, holding up her lone sandal to indicate her incomplete state of dress.

"Er, Magda, girls," Luke started, glaring at Elizabeth as he turned to face the visitors. "I'm sorry, but Elizabeth won't be going with you today. After what happened at the house, we think it would be best if she stayed-"

Magda's almond eyes widened in alarm and she pulled her hand from Robert's loose grasp to wrap it around Luke's arm. "Oh, no, _Señor, _she must! It would immediately cause much suspicion if she did not!"

Robert and Luke both frowned at that. "Why?"

"The _Don _has learned of what happened the night before this past night," another one of the girls spoke up, stepping closer to the two older men. "And he wants to speak to Elizabeth."

The older Spencer clasped a hand to his forehead, cursing their luck. "Oh, fuck."

Magda could see his trepidation and strove to reassure him. "_Señor, _it's not like that. Let me explain. The librarian, Marco, he woke up yesterday morning in his room next to mine and knew only that he had been drunk the night before. He went to work in the library and the Don came by for his morning paper. He left and we went about our work as usual."

Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest and listened carefully to Magda's account.

"It was around dinner time that the Don mentioned that he had been by the chapel a few times and hadn't seen Elena," the brunette continued, tipping her chin at Elizabeth when she used her friend's code name. "He appeared concerned that you had not sent word to anyone, and said that he might send a couple of his men to the village to check on you."

Robert's eyes widened in alarm, and Elizabeth's quick intake of breath indicated that she, too, was surprised by this revelation.

"So I asked to speak to him alone," Magda sighed, tucking her hair behind her ears. "If I didn't tell him what happened, he'd continue to press into it and I thought that if I told the story correctly…I would be able to get us all some more time."

Luke and Robert exchanged nervous glances but remained silent, willing to let the young woman explain.

"I told him that the reason that you had not come in to work was because you were afraid to. I knew this was what would affect him most, and he was very shocked. He asked me why and I told him that the night before, you had been helping me to fix my hair in my room and were leaving when Marco found you. He had been drinking and kissed you many times, but lost consciousness and fell on top of you. We took him back to his room and put him to bed, and you ran home and were too afraid to come back to work because he would be there."

She pursed her lips, studying both Robert and Luke carefully for their reactions but making no apologies for her actions. "I know it is not entirely true, _hermana_, and that Marco wanted to do much worse. But I knew that the Don would talk to him about it, so I said it was less because I did not want Marco to be mad at either of us. That would make both our jobs _muy dificil_, no?"

Elizabeth was nodding slowly, her brows furrowed in thought. "What did the Don do?"

"He told me that he understood why you stayed home, but he wished that you had told him about this. He said that I was to check on you that night and to make sure to tell you that it is perfectly safe for you to return."

Sonny rolled his eyes, settling his chin in his hands as he watched the scene unfold before him. Returning to the home of a known warlord and human rights violator was _not_ 'perfectly safe' under any circumstances, as far as he was concerned.

"Last night, he took Marco aside and spoke to him. I am not sure entirely what was said because I did not wish to stay in the house. I went back home last night and this morning Cecilia told me that the Don had been very angry with Marco and has put him under – how you say? – probation."

"That is true," the other young woman that they assumed to be Cecilia spoke up. "He is to go straight from his room to the library where he is to work until lunch. The Don's guards will be nearby, and they will watch him after lunch as well. After dinner, he is to return to his room. This is to go on for a week, _mas o menos_. The Don has said this much."

Elizabeth bit the inside of her cheek to hide a smug grin as she exchanged looks with a secretly pleased Magda, whose glittering eyes gave away her own smug satisfaction. "One week, huh?"

"More than enough time for you to find your treasure,_ hermana_," the petite brunette smiled. "But before you return to your search…as I said, the Don wishes to talk to you."

"Do you have any idea what he wants to talk about?" Elizabeth asked, nibbling her bottom lip. "Just to corroborate the story, right?"

"I heard him saying that he wishes to apologize to you," Magda replied, flipping her long tresses over her shoulder. "This sort of thing hasn't happened before under his watch and he feels very badly about it. You know about his niece, no?" She waited for Elizabeth's nod before continuing. "His love for her memory guarantees our protection in that house, _hermana_, and Don Buenaventura feels very badly that he couldn't guarantee your protection."

Luke and Robert exchanged glances, remembering their long talk with Elizabeth after she came back from the villa two days ago. The Don might have been a heartless killer with corpses in his basement and jars of human ears on his shelves, but at least he had _some_ morals.

"He wishes to assure you himself that you have nothing to fear in his home," Magda answered. "So we came here together this morning to make sure you were coming with us. He wants to meet you in the chapel as soon as we arrive."

Elizabeth's eyes lit up at the mention of the chapel that held her secret room, but Cecilia anticipated her plan and shook her head.

"I know you wish to retrieve the artifact as soon as possible, but you may have to wait until later," she sighed, playing with her many rings and baubles. "I'm not sure if you were told this, but the Don's birthday is in three days and it is our job to decorate the estate."

"We'll be spending most of our time outside picking flowers for the arrangements," Magda nodded, hurrying on when she saw her friend's shoulders slump. "But I'm sure you'll have the time to retrieve it during the afternoon."

"So? Are we going or what?" a lanky girl with hair the color of caramel grinned, clapping her hands together. "This will be a very special birthday for Don Malaventura!"

The girls giggled at that as Emmanuel and the other men rolled their eyes. The leader of the party finally strode toward the women, waiting for them to quiet down before he spoke his peace. "Proceed with caution, _hermanitas_," he started, his gaze traveling from one girl to the other and finally coming to rest on a smug Magda. "We are too close to make mistakes. You've been doing very well and now is the real test. You all know what to do over the next three days and I want you to remember that. Leave _la paloma_ to worry about the artifact – do not risk your position to help her, except you, Magda, if she asks."

The girls and Elizabeth nodded seriously, listening respectfully as the leader of the party continued.

"Things will be much more dangerous on the inside soon, and I need to know that you are all well protected. Pedro – proceed."

The girls watched curiously as Emmanuel's friend approached with a small chest in his hands. Opening it, he revealed eight small pistols. All were silver and particularly small, crafted specifically for a woman's hand. The girls said nothing as they reached forward to receive their own, quickly strapping the weapons to the inside of their thighs.

"Remember your training," Emmanuel spoke gravely. "It is too late now to show you again how to use them; I hope you remember your lessons from-"

"Emmanuel," Magda huffed, rolling her eyes as the other girls snicker. "We are not children – and if I remember correctly-"

"Which she always does," Cecilia grinned, winking at a perplexed Emmanuel.

"-I proved to be a better shot than you," Magda finished, poking the leader in the chest with a wicked grin. "You _do _remember that, no? Do I need to remind you?"

The other men of the _Libertad_ party didn't even bother to hide their laughter, and Jason was surprised to see Emmanuel biting the inside of his cheek to suppress a grin as well. "Maybe you do," he murmured, snaking a hand around Magda's narrow waist and pulling her roughly to him. "If I-"

"Emmanuel!" Magda squawked up at him as the girls broke into peals of laughter and managed to push herself away from him. She retreated two steps, wagging her finger threateningly as the leader grinned. "My father will have your head, you know."

"And a few other things," Pedro couldn't resist adding, further fueling the anarchy.

"Ah, yes, how _is _my father-in-law?" Emmanuel smirked, crossing his arms over his chest as Magda fumed before him. Nothing irritated her more than when he publicly announced his plans to marry her once the Don was deposed and Calvillo was safe.

Elizabeth was still chuckling as Magda muttered obscenities under her breath, and the young woman braced her hand on Luke's shoulder and hopped down from the cot to retrieve her sandal. She had managed to step into one and was attempting to buckle it as the older Spencer turned around to face her.

She could tell from his eyes that he was still displeased, but there really wasn't anything that she could do about that now. Whether he liked it or not, she _had_ to return – it would only raise more questions if she refused the Don's invitation and apology.

"Luke…I know you don't like this, but give me a chance." Her solemn sapphire orbs stared up at him gravely and the older man sighed. "I'll be back tonight, safe and sound, and we can all get out of here."

He growled low in his throat, still miffed about the insurrection, but even Luke was beginning to see that there was little he could do to stop this.

"I appreciate what you're trying to do, Luke," Elizabeth told him quietly, settling one hand on his forearm. "I really, really do. I'm so lucky to have someone like you watching out for me. I know you're trying to protect me, I do…I just think that other things are more important than my safety right now."

"And that's one thing we'll never agree on," the older man sighed, reluctantly wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. The brunette chuckled and buried her face in his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his neck as he kissed the top of her head. "Are you sure you don't want me to dress in drag and come with you? I look damn good in a skirt – I've got the legs for it."

Elizabeth was laughing as she pulled away, but still shook her head. "It's okay, Luke. I've got this." Jason watched her rise on her toes to kiss the older man on the cheek. "But thank you."

Luke ran his fingers through his thinning hair as he turned and watched her retrieve her other sandal and approach the girls.

Emmanuel had since become more serious and turned to Magda once more as Elizabeth came and stood next to him. "Magda, I want you to stay close to Elizabeth today – when she's in the chapel, wait outside the door. Stay near her when you work in the garden together. And if she needs you to help her get the artifact, do it – only Magda, is that clear?" The girls nodded. "Any more and it will be too suspicious. All right, the sun is almost up and you should all be leaving. Teodoro has some juice for you upstairs, so you can leave through the bar instead of having to run back to the house. Go."

The girls nodded and turned toward the stairs, and when Elizabeth turned to Luke again, she was surprised to see that Lucky and Jason were standing with him as well. "This is it."

"I'm telling you, darlin'," Luke tried again, "give me five minutes to shave my legs and I'm _there_. It's been a while since I had an excuse to get all dolled up, anyway."

Jason looked at the older man curiously, but Lucky just shook his head. "Don't…don't even ask, man. Trust me – don't even ask."

"I will be back tonight," Elizabeth replied, the twinkle in her sapphire eyes belying her amusement. "And I will have the necklace. I promise." She kissed Luke's cheek once more then turned to Lucky. "Do me a favor, will you? Watch Wildcard for me?"

The boy shrugged when she pecked his cheek. "Whatever."

"Where is he, anyway? I haven't seen him all morning."

"He's asleep in my shoe."

"Ah." Smirking, Elizabeth finally turned away from the Spencer men and looked up at Jason. He stood shifting his weight from one foot to another, looking mildly uneasy, and the corner of Elizabeth's mouth hooked upward. Hesitantly, she reached forward and took his hand, giving it a firm squeeze and letting her fingers linger there with his. "Thank you."

He knew what she was thanking him for, and he wasn't sure he liked that she felt she had to. She was thanking him for believing in her and supporting her, and while he was thrilled with the progress they had made, it still saddened him that she felt she had to thank him for supporting her – that she didn't feel as if she could count on it. Not that he blamed her entirely.

With a nod, Jason just squeezed her hand back, watching reluctantly as her fingers slipped from his. Grabbing her satchel, Elizabeth combed her hair with her fingers and raised two fingers to her forehead, giving Robert a quick salute. "Wish me luck!"

Magda and Emmanuel were still talking in soft voice near the foot of the stairs by the time Elizabeth approached them, and the leader sobered up quickly and nodded to both women as they scurried up the steps to catch up with their friends. Magda was the last one up, and when she turned over her shoulder to flash the leader a flirtatious grin, Jason couldn't help but notice the softening of Emmanuel's features as he gazed back up at her.

In a flash, they were gone, leaving the men all alone once more. Jason sighed and studied the men of the _Libertad_ party. Most of them were young, strong as bucks, and none of them were strangers to killing. He looked at Emmanuel, the stoic leader who was missing a small chunk off the top of his ear, who had countless scars etched into his tan skin, and watched as the man set his own revolver down on the desk with the intention to clean it.

The younger man's relationship with Magda came as a surprise to Jason, since he didn't figure that a man like him – a man with so much riding on his shoulders, a man so deeply entrenched in a world of violence and bloodshed – would have a spitfire like Magda standing by his side. Watching the two of them had been a strange, out-of-body experience; Emmanuel hardly graced anyone with more than a hard glare other than Luke and Robert, yet Magda definitely brought out his softer side and she held the gift of making him appear much younger than his years. It was clear that the leader, in turn, trusted her, valued her opinions, and appreciated her skill and prowess. The woman was a good shot and a quick thinker, while he was calm and in control even in the face of grave danger. The two really did make a good team.

"Well…" Sonny's gruff voice broke the silence as the mobster watched a tiny kitten poke its head out of Lucky's sneaker. "What the hell do we do now?"

"Talk about how me and Max owned _everyone_?" Johnny suggested under his breath, suppressing a grin. "Dude, we totally called this shit."

"Now," Emmanuel answered, looking at Jason first and then the rest of the men, "we wait. We let the women do their job and prepare ourselves to step in when it is _our_ time."


	17. 17

**Note: **I don't know about you guys, but I'm itching to get out of Mexico. (OMG – this is in no way a comment on the current immigration crisis! I didn't say anything! _Don't look at me!_) Heh. I'm such a knob.

For **Pilar**. (And all you other fabulous readers, too; this story would be nothing without your interest and your feedback.)

* * *

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 17**

Jason's cerulean orbs followed Robert Scorpio as the man paced up and down a row of cots, a sleek silver cell phone held to his ear. His colleague from the Bureau was en route to Calvillo and he was in the process of ironing out the last-minute details. Hopefully, Elizabeth would arrive safely back at the same time that Robert's friend did.

"Yes, yes, that's fine – you've still got a ways to go yet. We'll expect you tonight. Yes, everything's set. I've given you what I can, but Emmanuel will brief you as soon as you arrive. The target date is three days and I – yes, yes, fine. We'll see you then." He snapped the phone shut and shook his head. "Bloody stubborn-"

"_Señor Roberto_!"

The men in the bunker, all of who were anxious and on edge, pivoted instantly as Esteban thundered down the steps into the bunker.

"_Señor Roberto_!"

"I'm right here," Robert called out, jogging through the maze of cots to meet the young man at the foot of the stairs. "What is it? What's going on? Is it Elizabeth?"

Esteban was out of breath and panting, and quickly swiped his dark hair out of his face as Luke and the others drew near. "Yes – _la paloma_ sends word that if you can prepare everything for departure when she returns in about two hours, she will name her first-born son after you."

A stunned silence followed as the clock ticked out the seconds, and then Robert burst out laughing. "She did it! She's got it!"

Luke pumped his fist and spun around on his heel, relieved and ecstatic. "Spencers, one; Cassidines – zip!"

Johnny and Max puffed their chests out proudly until Jason shot them a look that promptly deflated the two bodyguards. Next to him, Sonny rubbed his jaw, clearly surprised. "Wow, she really did it, huh?"

"She did," Jason answered quietly, suppressing a pleased grin of his own. Now all that remained was for her to make it safely back to the bunker and this whole crazy adventure would be done with. Luke and Robert would take over, and he'd finally have a chance to talk things over with Elizabeth without having to worry about any distractions or psychotic warlords. It would take some work on his part, but it would be more than worth it. After all, if two people like Emmanuel and Magda could apparently make it work while firmly planted in a world of uncertainty and violence, then the outcome looked favorable for him and Elizabeth.

"That brilliant little girl," Robert murmured, still grinning as he paced in a circle. "That damned, brilliant girl. She did it – she actually did it!" He clapped his hands once, loudly, and surveyed his rag-tag group of misfits. "Well, you heard her – if we can get all this mess packed up and be ready to leave tonight, I get a little bugger named Robert, Jr. Get to it!"

Lucky snickered and moved past a couple members of the party who had overheard the exchange, pausing when his gaze landed on Emmanuel. The young man's expression was clearly troubled, and Lucky couldn't help but wonder why. "Hey, Emmanuel, what's wrong, man?"

"Nothing," the leader frowned, waving his hand in dismissal. "It's just that…_la paloma_ promised to name her first son after _me_ if I gave her the last _chalupa_ a few days ago."

The blonde grinned, tapping his chin as he thought. "The Holy Child Emmanuel Webber, huh?" He shrugged, giving the leader a shot in the arm as he moved to collect his things. "Who knows – it could happen."

* * *

"What's it look like?"

Robert glanced at Luke as his best friend took Lucky's duffel bag and tossed it next to the others. "Well, Elizabeth's due home any minute now, if she isn't held up. Our transportation arrangement won't be ready til it's completely dark – which is just fine because we won't want to leave until it's good and black out anyway."

"Will the agent from the Bureau be here before we leave?" Jason asked, zipping up his own bag and leaving it on his cot.

The detective nodded. "Most likely around the same time – I hope we don't miss each other. I'd like to be here myself when-"

"That's the last of it," Lucky announced, looking around the bunker as he walked over to his father and Luke. "I'm going to go upstairs in a bit and make sure everyone's got their stories straight and that our transportation's all set."

Luke nodded and clapped the boy on the shoulder. "And now all we do is wait for Elizabeth to get her butt back here."

Hopefully, it wouldn't be too long before she returned. He was still against her return to the villa, and even though he realized that he was being hypocritical, the father in him just couldn't let go of that feeling. He knew he was supposed to be the cool one – the one that jumped first and asked questions later. But it was moments like this – moments like when Lucky was presumed dead in the fire, when Lulu's babysitter's house caught on fire with the little girl in it, or when Elizabeth was almost raped again – that always made him pull back and question what he was doing. But if Elizabeth said that she was ready to return to the house, then she had to mean it to a certain extent. Hopefully, she'd be back soon, safe and sound.

In the end, they didn't have to wait long. After taking inventory and making sure that all their possessions were packed up, the men had just finished straightening up the cots when they heard the party's trademark knock on the heavy wooden door. Pedro wiggled his brows at Emmanuel and quickly opened it, allowing an extremely pleased Elizabeth to slip inside.

The seven men jumped on her as soon as she set foot inside the bunker.

"Did you get it?" Robert asked immediately, following her anxiously toward the nearest cot with Luke and Lucky on his heels. "You did get it, right?"

"I told you I would, didn't I?" the brunette grinned in reply, already undoing the knot in her skirt that formed a makeshift pocket. Daily, she had transported grapes and wildflowers from the Don's villa back to the bunker just to establish that as a quirk for the guards' benefit, and today was the day it finally paid off.

She undid the knot and pulled the cotton away, revealing a thick bunch of large coral roses in full bloom that she had tied with a hair ribbon presumably borrowed from one of her friends. Elizabeth grasped the bouquet carefully, mindful of the thorns, and brushed the leaves out of her skirt.

Robert and Luke waited with baited breath as she pulled the ribbon loose from its knot and tossed it away. Several roses fell upon the release of the ribbon, but the rest remained bound together. And as the men leaned closer, they saw how. Elizabeth had taken the artifact – a large, ornate ruby necklace set in silver – and fastened it on the last latch, using it to hold most of the roses together. She had covered it with yet more flowers and a ribbon, and smuggled it out of the villa in plain sight.

She undid the clasp and dumped the flowers on the cot, holding the necklace up to the golden light. The massive ruby in the middle glittered brilliantly, and for a moment the men were all stunned into silence.

"Wow," Luke murmured reverently, his large eyes swallowing the massive gemstone. "Ain't that a beaut?"

"Holy shit," Lucky agreed, staring at the ruby over Elizabeth's shoulder.

"You're sure this is it, now, aren't you?" Never one to be beguiled by appearances, Robert wanted to make sure they had the right artifact.

Elizabeth nodded firmly. "Yup. It's red, the color of blood, just like Timoteo said, and it's the exact same necklace I saw in Marco's photograph."

"Didn't he say that there was writing on it?" Jason asked, eyeing the necklace and the brunette curiously.

With a smirk, Elizabeth turned the ornate necklace over in her hand and revealed the silver backplate. Engraved into the precious metal were two lines of a Cyrillic-looking script as well as embellished designs around the border.

"I have a colleague who's a bit of an art historian," Robert remarked, studying the script gravely. "He'll be able to tell us what this means."

"Good," Elizabeth replied, fingering the necklace and nibbling on her lower lip. "Are we going to get out of here soon?"

"In about an hour and a half," Luke informed her. "Cowboy packed up your stuff, so you should be all set."

"You're going to want to hide that necklace, Elizabeth," Robert added, pointing at the large gemstone. "And not on your person, either. Got any place handy?"

She thought for a moment and then nodded. "Yeah – where's my bag?"

Jason hefted her blue duffel bag easily and cleared the roses off the cot before setting it down. He watched as she ripped the zipper open and rooted through it before pulling out a worn white tennis shoe. Reaching inside, Elizabeth grasped the fabric of the inside sole and pulled it up. The threads had given way a long time ago, but she still didn't have the room she needed.

"Can I borrow a knife from someone?" She looked around, smirking when each man instantly produced an army knife. Chuckling, she took Jason's since he was the closest and used the tip of the blade to rip the seam of her shoe a little further. Satisfied, she pulled the flap of fabric up and slipped the necklace into the rubber sole of her tennis shoe before pushing it down again to conceal it from sight, and dropped it back into her duffel bag with the other one.

Robert was watching her with a bemused grin, and shook his head. "Honestly, the greatest achievement of my life would be to figure out how a woman's mind works."

"Hey, man, simmer down," Luke warned, casting a dubious glance at his old friend. "Even _I_ know my limits."

"Funny, Luke – you always struck me as the kind of man who thought he didn't have any," Elizabeth smirked, handing her duffel bag to Lucky who stashed it away with the rest. The older man glared good-naturedly at her back as the brunette made her way over to her own cot to retrieve the few items that Lucky had no doubt missed in his packing spree.

She found Wildcard wandering around and scooped him up, stroking the little kitten between the ears. Waiting until the men were busy discussing other things and not paying attention to her anymore, Elizabeth set the kitten down on her cot and slipped a hand under the pillow. Pulling it back out, she discreetly set the silver subway token down behind the kitten and reached underneath again. This time, she pulled out a knotted white handkerchief. Shaking it, she was pleased to hear the familiar tinkle of fragments of thick glass.

She couldn't fully explain why she kept both trinkets, but she couldn't bring herself to throw them away. Besides that, she had long since discovered that when used in combination, the glass and the token brought her good luck. Palming both items in her hand, she quietly slipped past the men and deposited them into the side pocket of her duffel bag.

Lucky had just slipped upstairs to make sure everyone had their stories straight, followed by Jason, Sonny and the guards, all of whom wanted a beer before they left Calvillo, and Luke and Robert were free to discuss the transportation arrangements as well as the imminent arrival of Robert's old colleague from the Bureau. Elizabeth looked around the empty bunker and then unzipped her bag again, pulling out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

"I'm going to go take a shower real quick before we leave," she called over her shoulder. "I'm all disgusting from today."

"Take your time, darlin'," Luke called back. "We've got some time yet."

But time passed fairly quickly as the men readied themselves for departure. Lucky finished the arrangements and returned downstairs to help transport their meager luggage. Sonny, Jason and the guards also came down, having finished their drinks, and were pleased to receive their firearms after more than a week – sans bullets, of course. Elizabeth appeared from the bathing facility, showered and refreshed, and before long it was time to leave.

Emmanuel, Magda, and Pedro accompanied the group through the secret tunnel toward the back end of the bar. The night sky was a soft, inky black, and countless miniscule stars twinkled down on them. The men were extremely relieved to be out in the open once more, having spent more than a week cooped up in a bunker with no windows and hence, no natural light.

Robert frowned at Jason and Sonny's obvious unease and rolled his eyes. "Quit fidgeting, you two – we're perfectly safe if we stay right here. The Don's men rarely patrol this area."

"What are we waiting for?" Sonny asked impatiently. "I don't like being out in the open like this. If we're spotted-"

"What did I just say?" Robert questioned, frowning at Luke who simply shrugged, distancing himself from Sonny and Jason's impertinence. "Just stay cool and shut up."

"Where's our ride, Luke?" Jason asked, staring hard at the older Spencer. As if on cue, a rusty, rumbling, screeching mess of metal appeared from around the corner, creaking as it crawled over to where they stood. Pedro and Emmanuel waved it over, and the driver coasted on neutral until he was parked a few feet away from them. Even in the darkness, Sonny and Jason could both make out the stacked wire mesh boxes, and the screeching noise that issued forth from the rusted metal deathtrap was unmistakable.

"Luke…" the enforcer ground out, his hands curling into fists. "Those are _chickens_."

The older man simply grinned down at Elizabeth, who grinned back, and the twinkle in his eyes asked her to do the honors.

"Wrong!" she sang out, thoroughly enjoying the horrified expressions on their faces. "_That's_ our ride. All aboard, boys."

Lucky didn't even bother to conceal his laughter as he hefted Elizabeth's duffel bag and then his own, already making his way toward the truck. Johnny and Max shared uneasy glances before grabbing two bags each and following suit. Together, the men managed to load all the luggage onto the truck as Sonny and Jason tried to keep themselves from pistol-whipping Robert and Luke.

"I'm not riding in _that_," Sonny replied witheringly, pointing at the truck with a clear look of disdain. "God knows those things carry chicken pox or…the bird flu or…something."

Robert rolled his eyes. "Such a girl, this one," he muttered to Luke, who only smirked and motioned Emmanuel over. "What's the matter, Corinthos? What's this really about? Afraid of mussing up your custom-made Italian suit? Get in the truck or take your chances with Don Buenaventura."

Sonny scowled, not used to being spoken to in that manner, but remained standing near Jason. Elizabeth shook her head and looked at first Luke, then Robert. "What are we waiting for, Robbie?"

"We're waiting for his pal from the WSB to get here," Luke replied, tipping his head at his old friend. "Robert doesn't want to leave before Emmanuel and the others meet the agent that's going to help them get through this."

"-should have arrived already," Robert was muttering to himself, rubbing the back of his neck and beginning to pace. "I gave good directions…"

"Just a little while longer," Luke assured Lucky and Elizabeth. "We're fine as we are right now. We can wait just a little while longer. And, hey, you might want to take this time to say goodbye to Thelma, Louise."

Elizabeth grinned and glanced at Magda who remained close to Emmanuel's side. Side-stepping Luke, she made her way over to the little group and tapped the girl on the shoulder. "Magda, thank you for everything. I don't even want to think about what would have happened if you hadn't been around to help me."

"Then don't," the other brunette suggested with an impish grin as she threw her arms around Elizabeth's shoulder. "Be safe, _hermana_."

"You, too," Elizabeth replied, hugging her back. "And good luck – Emmanuel, Pedro, good luck with this mission." The men nodded and smiled, and the brunette turned back to her friend. "Hey, I was wondering if I could ask you a favor…"

"What?"

"Do you think you could watch Wildcard for me? He's just a little guy, and I don't want him to starve or get hurt. If you can, that would be _great_."

"Emmanuel will watch him," Pedro volunteered, winking at Magda. "After all, he has a soft spot for…runts."

Magda glared darkly at him, making Pedro laugh, and stepped forward to punch him in the arm before a chuckling Emmanuel intervened.

"I'll show you a runt, you-"

The petite nineteen-year-old was still threatening Pedro when Elizabeth turned away and slipped in between Luke and Lucky as they all stood in a small group waiting for Robert's colleague. The detective was muttering under his breath and his pale blue eyes continuously darted around, checking the dark alleys and shaded doors for his partner.

"Any minute now, Robert," Luke assured him. "I heard a car approaching a few minutes ago – you'll see."

"So, Robert," Sonny couldn't resist an opportunity to needle the arrogant old man. "You got another girl lined up to do your dirty work?"

Elizabeth glared at the two mobsters and bodyguards when they all chuckled at that, but Robert wasn't paying attention to their antics. "Not just any girl, Corinthos," he smiled faintly, his suddenly bright eyes trained on a dark figure in the nearby alley. "'Ello, Luv."

Anna Devane, dressed in black trousers and a fitted, full-sleeve black shirt, stepped out of the inky shadows, smirking at her ex-husband. Elizabeth gasped and Lucky and Luke grinned at each other, as Jason and Sonny simply stared in shock at the female agent.

"Hello, Robert."

"Well, well, if it isn't Anna _Divine_," Luke teased, using Robert's old nickname for the woman when Sean first introduced the two, as he grasped her hand and lifted it to his lips for a kiss. "The White Rose is in full bloom."

The tall brunette couldn't help but smile at the old man's antics. "Hello, Luke. Kids," she added, gracing both a smitten Lucky and an amazed Elizabeth with a smile. "And you must be my point man."

Robert stepped out of his reverent trance when Emmanuel reached forward to shake Anna's hand. "Anna, this is Emmanuel Mortega, Pedro Sanchez, and Magda Calvillo, all top members of the _Libertad _party. Emmanuel, this is World Security Bureau special agent Anna Devane. She'll be assisting you in your mission."

"Pleasure," Anna smiled, tipping her head at the three young insurgents. "I'll do whatever I can to ensure a smooth operation and a smooth transition afterwards."

"We look forward to working with you, _Señora Devane_," Emmanuel replied formally. "Allow us to show you to our headquarters."

"You'll love the showers," Luke pointed out, nodding his head seriously. "Great pressure."

"I'll keep that in mind," Anna smirked, the smile slowly fading when her dark eyes came to rest on her ex-husband. "This is where you get off the ride, isn't it, Robert?"

He nodded. "We'll be traveling to the Yucatan and splitting up from there," he answered. "All right, gang, might as well start moving out. Let's get on with it."

"You heard the super-spy, kids," Luke sighed, coaxing Lucky and Elizabeth away from the older couple. "Time to go."

"But, Dad," his son pressed, resisting weakly as Luke dragged him away. "That's Anna _Devane._"

"I know, son, I know," the older man soothed, all but shoving the boy toward the truck and waiting as he climbed on. "Now, you let the nice lady do her job and I'll give you a toy. You want a toy, don't you?"

Johnny and Max were chuckling as they followed suit, climbing into the truck before their employers. Grumbling, Sonny managed to hoist himself up and moved gingerly past the caged fowl to the very end of the truck, near the driver, where his companions sat. With little effort, Jason climbed up into the cab and lingered, waiting for Elizabeth.

But the little brunette was busy at the moment. Her dark sapphire eyes were trained on Robert and Anna in the darkness. The female agent held her hands clasped behind her back as she listened to her ex-husband give her last-minute details and pointers that weren't really necessary since Emmanuel would be briefing her soon. But still, Anna listened patiently to Robert as he ticked off various helpful insights.

When he had nothing left to say, the detective rubbed his hands together and remained silent for a brief moment. Elizabeth watched quietly as Robert leaned forward hesitantly, as if wanting to press a kiss to his ex-wife's cheek, but stopped himself when Anna retreated just a fraction of an inch. The woman averted her gaze, refusing to embarrass him further, and Robert nodded once to himself and touched her elbow in a bittersweet farewell.

"Elizabeth?"

Hearing her name, she turned on her heel to see Jason kneeling on the bed of the truck, waiting for her. The light summer breeze swept through his spikes, lovingly tousling the sandy hair, and the darkness softened his piercing blue eyes as he gazed at her. She cast one look over her shoulder at Robert, who was approaching the truck from a few paces away, and turned back to the enforcer. Her small hands grasped his shoulders as his spanned her narrow waist, and Elizabeth let Jason lift her up.


	18. 18

**Note: **Regrettably, Anna was only around in this story for the past chapter. We won't be seeing her again in The Battle. I planned her "return" in this fic to pick up where Robert left off in Mexico long before I knew that Finola Hughes was actually coming back to GH, so that had to lessen the effect of it. Ah, well, the White Rose is awesome regardless. ("White Rose" Anna's code name in the WSB; Robert "Pegasus". I swear I'm not making this up.)

One little change: For some reason, I mentioned in chapter 17 that the group was traveling to the Yucatan and splitting up from there. I'm not sure why I wrote that; I had planned for them to drive to Tamaulipas since I outlined this, because the Yucatan is, like, 2000 miles away. The version of this story at my site has been edited to correct the typo. Thank you.

* * *

**The Battle of Who Could Care Less**

Elizabeth hugged her knees to her chest, her head tipped back against the wooden sideboard of the truck as she stared into the inky blue heavens. It was around four o'clock in the morning and they were only a little more than halfway to their next stop. Sleep had not been forthcoming since they left Calvillo around ten o'clock the previous night, and all passengers were reluctantly drowsy as the drunk bumped along on the dusty road.

"It's amazing how close the stars look, isn't it?"

Both Lucky and Jason looked at the brunette seated between them and then up at the sky. Robert and Luke, leaning against the other side of the truck and separated only by a bottle of single-malt scotch, smirked knowingly at each other.

"Say, Luke," the detective began, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "It's amazing how men only notice the stars when there's a woman around to point them out, isn't it?"

Both Jason and Elizabeth glared at the older men while Lucky and the guards laughed. The sound of their amusement woke up Sonny, who had been dozing lightly with his back up against the cab of the truck.

"How far along are we?" he mumbled, running a hand through his now unruly black curls.

"We've got about four hours to go," Robert answered, still grinning cheekily at Elizabeth. "We'll be there by eight or so in the morning, if we keep making good time and don't run into any trouble. Here-" He reached for his bag and threw a sealed plastic container at Lucky across the truck. "Better eat something – we'll be on the move as soon as we get there, and you're bound to be hungry."

"Sweet," Lucky murmured, taking out a sandwich and passing it along to Elizabeth. "I haven't eaten since nine o'clock."

"I haven't eaten since _breakfast_," Elizabeth retorted, grabbing a sandwich and some fruit before handing the box off to Jason, who simply passed it along to the guards. "So…Luke." The man in question looked up at her. "You said that Waldo would be waiting for us in Tamaulipas, right? What's the plan from there, again?"

"Well, things are going to go pretty smoothly if we handle ourselves correctly and don't waste too much time," Luke replied, running his hand through his white hair. "The target date for the party's strike is about three days – which gives us _three days_ until Helena finds out that her little scavenger hunt blew up in her face. In that time, we gotta get the hell out of Mexico and make sure we have alibis and protection, because the Dragon Queen is going to be on the prowl."

"And that's why we've all got to split up once we get there," Robert continued. "We'll take the plane out of Tamaulipas this morning, and Luke, Lucky, and yourself will be heading back to Port Charles to pretend like you never left. It'll be fairly easy – Elizabeth, with your pattern before departure, it won't be much of a stretch to say that you were hibernating at the Brownstone for a week. Luke and Lucky, of course, can just say that they were drinking and playing cards at _Luke's_ or whatever you call that construction violation, and forgot to come up for air for a few days."

"Sonny, you and Jason and the boys are going to the island," Luke informed the Cuban mobster. "You'll pretend you had business there and stay for as long as you want – an hour, a day, it makes no difference as long as it's convincing. Then you'll come home with considerable fanfare like you had some trouble at the island but now it's all taken care of and you're back on Easy street."

"Meanwhile, I will be taking the necklace and waiting for my colleague," Robert added. "He's stationed in Egypt for the time being, and I don't believe he'll be able to leave his post for at least another three or four days." That was about all he thought safe to say; there was no sense in divulging to his little group of misfits that his old friend from the Bureau was posing as an archaeologist to uncover the exploitation of ancient Egyptian artifacts excavated from the pyramids by an underground American black market outfit.

"I will wait for him in France, and he'll be able to tell me about the necklace. When we figure that out…we'll have to go from there."

"Three or four days?" Lucky was frowning as he chewed his sandwich slowly. "Just for you to meet the guy? Not counting how long it'll take him to decode those weird bumps on the back of the necklace?" He grimaced when his father and Robert nodded reluctantly. "_Not_ good. Who's to say Helena won't already be on your ass by that time?"

"Please, that's a visual I've tried my whole life to avoid," Robert groaned, rubbing his eyes to ward off his weariness. "I know it's cutting it close, but what else can we do? I have no other choice. It's going to be dangerous if I have to wait that long, but there's no one else who specializes in Macedonian artwork and can be trusted-"

"Actually…"

All eyes fell on Elizabeth as the petite brunette meekly raised her hand, as if she were still a small child in school. Robert and Luke stared, perplexed, and Jason wasn't any less bewildered as the young woman nibbled on her lower lip and tried to form the words.

"…I might know someone who can help."

Tact had never been Luke Spencer's forte, and it didn't stand in his way now. "Who the hell could _you_ possibly know? –You're Elizabeth."

She pursed her lips and Jason noticed that she was starting to wring her fingers like she did when she was nervous. "I know that, Luke. I was just saying that…I know someone who's a leading authority on ancient Greek artifacts, specifically pottery. And…I think he can be trusted."

Robert waited for her to continue, his eyes probing hers expectantly, and sighed gruffly when she said nothing. "Well? Elizabeth?"

"Have you got a plan, darlin'?" Luke snipped teasingly. "Now, what did you tell me yesterday? –Oh, yeah…_enlighten_ me, will you?"

She cleared her throat nervously. "I…my father knows this guy – he's known him since before I was born. They're about twenty years apart, and he was my dad's professor or TA or something during his undergrad years. He joined the Marines after he graduated high school and traveled around for a while, then went back to school to study archaeology. He's been tenured at Oxford in England for a while now, and he goes on archaeological digs in Macedonia and Mesopotamia every summer and helps museum curators decipher the meaning of the pictures and text on ancient pottery fragments."

"Well, that's one way to make a living," Johnny snorted, elbowing Max who was beginning to doze off against the cab.

"I think that if we asked him…" Elizabeth's apprehensive sapphire orbs darted back and forth from Luke to Robert. "…he'd do everything he could to tell us what it means. And I don't think he'd say anything if we asked him not to."

An uncomfortable, interminable silence followed as Luke and Robert studied first the brunette then each other.

"And he's in England, you said?" Robert pursed his lips when Elizabeth nodded. "England. We can be there in less than twenty-four hours from Tamaulipas."

"What do we think?" Luke murmured, leaning closer to Robert. "Is it an option?"

The detective was frowning and staring at his shoes while he thought. After a long moment, he looked up at his best friend and other companions. "She'd have to come with me."

"Risky," the older Spencer muttered under his breath. "But on the other hand, if you can be there about twenty-four hours from now…"

"…We have a much better – safer, that is – chance of finding out what the artifact really means," Robert finished. "And I can always get in touch with Pentagruel from the airfield at Tamaulipas and tell him to meet me in England instead of Paris. He can get a direct flight to either location."

"It just might work," Luke mused, his eyes narrowed as he thought. "But if we go that route…"

"_Pentagruel_?" Max muttered, looking around at his friends for an explanation. "What the hell kind of name is that?"

"Code name," Lucky answered automatically. "Come on – these guys are WSB agents. They're not going to use their real names, even when they're around each other."

"Are you sure you want her with you, though?" Luke asked his old friend. "She can get a little annoying sometimes – with the _yappity yap yap_."

Robert grinned at Elizabeth, who kicked her foot harmlessly in Luke's direction. "I think so – I think we can make it work. All right, Elizabeth, you just might be getting your way after all. If you and I go to England, you think you can get your professor friend to help us out?"

She nodded quickly. "Oh, yeah, I'm positive. He's done this sort of thing for the government before, too – he used to tell me and Sarah stories about it when we were kids."

"Well, that's it then." Robert glanced at Luke, who simply shrugged, and quirked a half-smile at the brunette. "You and I are hopping across the pond in the morning."

"I don't think so."

The small, apprehensive smile dropped completely off Elizabeth's face at Jason's firmly growled words, and both she and Lucky snapped to attention and stared at the resolute enforcer. He was focused on Robert, his alarming blue eyes narrowed as he stared the other man down, practically daring him to challenge that.

And Robert Scorpio never backed down from a challenge like that. "Didn't I just tell you to shut up about six hours ago? You were doing so well for a while there, Morgan."

Jason just lifted a sandy brow but refused to react to the detective's remarks. Elizabeth, on the other hand, didn't believe in exercising such self-control at the moment.

"Excuse me?" she asked, turning around so that she was directly facing the obstinate man next to her. When he kept staring at Robert, she poked him in the arm – hard. "Hey, look at me. Who do you think you are? You don't get to decide what I do or don't do, Jason, and if-"

"You'll need protection," Jason replied quietly, swinging back to meet Robert's suspicious gaze. "If you and Elizabeth go to England to learn more about the artifact…you'll need protection."

"I'm no lamb lost in the woods, Morgan," Robert bristled, his lip curling into a sneer. "I've been packing heat since before you were a lustful gleam in Alan's eyes."

A muscle in his jaw ticked, but Jason refused to give in to his violent urges in front of Elizabeth. Instead, he folded his hands together and stared the detective dead straight in the eyes, his voice low and deliberate. "I'm coming with you."

Elizabeth gaped at him. "You're – what?"

"I'll be your protection," Jason repeated, tearing his eyes away from Robert's long enough to brave a quick glance at the brunette. "You can't tell me that you can't use an extra pair of hands or an extra set of eyes. You two will be focused on the necklace – I'll be focused on protecting all of us." He watched carefully as Robert considered it, pursing his lips together when the detective paused for a few seconds too long. "Wherever she goes, I go."

Lucky hid a smirk when he saw Elizabeth's dark brows jump in surprise. Jason Morgan might not have known it, but he had just scored some _major_ points. By the cab of the truck, Johnny and Max were sneaking glances at Sonny, who seemed just as surprised that his right-hand man would volunteer himself out so quickly and without even consulting him.

Jason looked toward Sonny, cocking his head to the side. "You can spare me, right?"

Still somewhat surprised, the mobster nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I can." And that was the truth, not some mindless reassurance he tried to offer his friend. Things had calmed down at home; Alcazar had retreated since he faked his death and he'd have no problem running things for a little while with just a few of his top men.

Robert had sensed the Cuban's initial unease over the fact that Jason hadn't talked this over with him earlier, and the momentary schism between the two men pleased him. He'd have to remember this moment and use it to his advantage when it came time to put the two mobsters under lock. Pushing those thoughts away for a later time, he turned gravely toward Elizabeth and tipped his chin at her.

"You – what do you think?"

She nibbled her lip, relaxing against the side of the truck between the enforcer and Lucky. "I think…" The men watched her pick at her unpolished nails, still torturing that bottom lip of hers as she swallowed roughly and searched for the right words. "Jason's…" Well, she couldn't say that the hitman was _good at his job_ in front of the World Security Bureau agent. "I think…if we need protection, Jason's the best one for the job."

Robert frowned. It wasn't what he wanted to hear – frankly, he didn't want to be within a 200 mile radius of the man if he could at all help it – but he knew Elizabeth's instincts as far as Jason were concerned were good. She had known the man for a lot longer than he had, and she had most likely seen him in top form anyhow.

"Fine. The three of us will fly out to England tomorrow."

When he finally dared to glance over at Elizabeth, Jason was surprised to see her lips curling into a small, pleased smile. She looked up just then, and their eyes met and held, blue on blue. Her smile grew, and then she turned her gaze away.


	19. 19

**Note: **I'm glad you're all enjoying the frequent updates.

As if you haven't already figured it out, Anna and Robert both still work for the WSB. The Bureau never marked them for elimination. Robert was hunted down by an assassin and had to fake his death in order to trap the killer, and Cesar Faison turned on the bureau and retaliated by kidnapping one of their star agents (Anna) and when Robert went to rescue her after killing his own would-be killer, Cesar blew up the boat and made it look as if they both died. Other agents from the Bureau pulled together to rescue the Scorpios, and they both remained low due to the danger, etc. I'm sorry I didn't explain that explicitly earlier.

* * *

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less**

As Jason Morgan loaded his newly purchased bullets into his recently returned weapon, he considered – just for one moment – lodging one in his skull. At least that would put him out of his misery. For the past five hours straight, he had been subjected to an endless narrative of 'the good old days' – and it was all Lucky and Elizabeth's fault. First, Lucky had goaded his father into regaling them with tales of the Sword of Malkuth and how he had used it to avenge his wife's 'death'. Elizabeth, not to be outdone, had coaxed Robert into launching into the story of the Asian Quarter. The two of them had hung onto Robert and Luke's every word. Jason, however, honestly wanted to shoot himself just to provide a worthy distraction.

Nearby, Robert was wrapping up his conversation with his colleague and looked around at his rag-tag group as he slipped his phone into his pocket. "All right, is everyone set? Are we ready to go?"

"Just about," Luke replied, glancing at his watch. "Waldo's pals are set, but he's still refueling."

"Just so everyone has this straight-" The detective gestured toward the three white Cesnas parked down the runway. "-Monty will be taking Luke and Lucky back to Port Charles. Cesar will be taking Sonny, John, and Max to the island. And Waldo will be taking us three to England. Got it?"

The men nodded and Robert clapped his hands once. "Let's go, then."

"You be good, darlin'," Luke told Elizabeth as he pulled the young woman into a hug. "Do whatever Robert tells you, except when he's being an ass-clown – in that case, fight the power."

"That's enough of your mutinous sentiments, Spencer," the detective growled, pulling the brunette away from his senile old friend. "In case you've forgotten, we've all got planes to catch and we're already way behind schedule."

"I'll miss you, too, Puddin'," Luke called out as he waved to Monty and motioned for Lucky to hurry it up. "Don't disappear for another ten years, you hear?"

Lucky just rolled his eyes and kissed Elizabeth on the cheek. "Take care of yourself, 'kay? I'll see ya when I see ya."

"Bye, Lucky," she smiled. "Hey, you've got my luggage, right?" Lucky nodded and signaled to her a duffel bag, and Elizabeth waved at the Spencer men as they walked away to board their plane. Since she had nothing but miniskirts and tank tops in her carry-on, she had asked Lucky to take it back to Port Charles with him and had just grabbed her underwear tote and a sweater. She figured she'd be able to get a change of clothes in England before too long.

Jason and Sonny were engaged in a quiet conversation with Johnny and Max, and after a moment the two men shook hands and parted. Waldo was waiting for them and Robert climbed into the four-passenger plane first, situating their luggage as best he could so that they'd all have the most space possible. Elizabeth grabbed the detective's outstretched hand and allowed Jason to lift her onto the plane from behind and finally the enforcer climbed in after her.

"Say, Waldo," Robert called out as the pilot readied the plane. "What are the chances that we can make a little detour to Sing-Sing and, I don't know, lighten the cargo a bit?"

Elizabeth glanced at Jason and shook her head, kicking the back of Robert's seat. "Not funny, Robbie."

* * *

"I'm getting too old for this," Elizabeth grumbled, trying to work the kinks out of her back while remaining seated. Jason was trying to sleep in the cramped seat next to her for the first time in twenty-four hours, but Robert was still awake and alert.

"Isn't that supposed to be _my_ line?" he teased, looking over his shoulder at her as Waldo spoke into his transistor in Spanish.

"Please – like you'd ever admit that out loud," the young woman groused. "Why do I always get conned into following old men into airplanes?"

"Bite your tongue," Robert scolded good-naturedly. "Don't act like I've got one foot in the grave. I'm still running international missions, aren't I?"

That comment stopped her, and Elizabeth stared quietly at the carpet of white clouds in a moment of comprehension. "Is that what this is? An international mission?"

Robert blinked. "Well, yes. A transatlantic plane ride from Mexico to England certainly qualifies it as such, don't you think?"

"Wow," the brunette murmured. "So…you've done this a hundred times, haven't you?"

The detective smiled, looking out the window as he understood what her reaction was about. "Yes. The first one's a little rough – that's when it hits you, that you're actually doing it. But after that, you forget about it because you've got so much riding on your shoulders and you have to do your job. And if you're working with a partner, you've not only got to protect yourself but him, too. Oh, it's a strange beast, Elizabeth, but I can't imagine myself doing anything else."

"It must have been strange, though," she frowned, "at first, I mean. For you and…Anna."

He didn't turn over his shoulder to look at her. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, having to work with the person you love. And not just a normal nine-to-five, obviously. Like, dangerous work. Work where you know that you're really lucky if you make it to sunset without one of you being wounded or hurt. I can't imagine how you did it – how did you draw the line between wanting to keep her safe and letting her do her job while focusing on yours?"

"Oh, it wasn't easy," Robert chuckled, a distant look in his eyes as he stared blankly out the window. "Anna…is a very independent woman. She's not just independent – she's _fierce_. She has good instincts, and what's more, she knows it. She trusts herself, and that makes it very difficult for anyone that wants to protect her."

Jason shifted in the seat next to her, but his eyes remained close and his breathing rhythmic and slow.

"Not unlike the problem between you and Morgan, I assume."

Elizabeth looked out the window, nibbling on her lower lip. "Please. It's nothing like what you and Anna went through. I mean, I'm not a secret agent, for one."

"And he's not a crusader for all that is good and just in this world," Robert added with considerable self-importance as he glared at the dozing mobster. "Hardly. But, regardless – one could argue that the whole reason you came down here in the first place is to teach him a lesson."

"Sure, one _could_ argue that," Elizabeth replied sweetly, "if one wanted his head bitten off."

"Oh?"

"Get off it, Robbie – you know as well as I do that Luke only asked me to come down with him and Lucky because I was sitting around on the couch eating nothing but Pizza Pockets and Death By Chocolate ice cream. He thought it would be a good way for me to let off some steam, and that a change of pace would do me good. If he had known then that Helena was involved…I doubt that he would have come to me."

"Well, I can't argue with you there, doll," Robert agreed. "He's quite fond of you – he thinks of you as one of his own."

"He does," the brunette responded immediately. "I got along great with Luke ever since Lucky and I first fell in love. And after he died – or, after Helena took him – I think Luke kind of appointed himself as my father-figure because he knew I was alone."

"What about your own family?"

"They're in Colorado – wait, I mean, they're in Bosnia."

"Colorado, Bosnia – quite a disparity in terms of locale, there."

"Well, you know of my dad, right? Jeff Webber – Rick Webber's younger brother? Related to Tom Hardy?"

"Yes, Tommy Boy," Robert grinned. "Of course. I'm familiar with the gang. Never met them – but I know of them all."

"Well, they're all doctors, and both my parents are part of the Doctors Without Borders program and they've been stationed all over the world. My brother and sister and I grew up in Colorado, and after we moved out, they traveled around Africa for a while, then India, and they've been in Bosnia for a few years now."

"Do you keep in touch with them at all?"

"Nope. I don't even know how to get a hold of them."

That got Robert's attention, and the detective turned around in his chair. "You're kidding."

She shrugged. "Haven't seen them since I was fifteen, when I first came to Port Charles, and I speak to them on the phone usually at Christmas."

"You mean – they didn't come to see you? Not when you were…?" He didn't want to say it, and he knew from the look in her eyes when she shook her head that she understood. "What about when Lucky…no? Nothing?"

Elizabeth shrugged again. "To be honest, I'm kind of indifferent to it now. They've made their choice, you know? And obviously, that choice wasn't me. You get over it. Don't take this the wrong way, Robbie, but my parents, my family…they're kind of like you. Only they didn't _fake_ their death for the past eleven years. They just…left. And either way…what's the difference? I know that…that I wasn't part of the plan and that I could be brushed aside and pawned off like an old sweater, so, fine. I'm not going to give them the satisfaction of sulking about it. And I haven't."

"…And that's why you were so angry with Corinthos and his men when they came to cart you home," Robert mused. "Because you felt like they had tried to pawn you off like a sweater, and were trying insincerely to make amends."

"I guess that's part of it," the brunette replied quietly, picking at her nails with increased focus. "But what I really had a problem with was…" Well, she wasn't about to divulge the details of Corinthos' underground mafia organization to a _crusader for all that is good and just_. "You know, I like being in the loop. I'm not asking for a key to the city or anything – but I would like to know what's going on so that I don't cry myself to sleep for three nights after the funeral, and I don't play nice with the alleged widow – who I can't fricking _stand_, by the way – and…no, you know what? I _don't_ like being made to play the fool."

She stared out at the clouds, frowning. "It was never like this, you know. He never used to make me feel this way."

"What way?"

"Like I was just some kid who somehow lucked her way into his life, and I should just count my blessings and sit down and shut up while he runs around taking care of everyone else. There was a time when I took care of him and he took care of me, and it was…"

"A partnership."

"Yeah. Kinda."

"Oh, I know how that goes – boy, do I."

"I understood that if I decided to be with him, I'd have to make some changes. I understood about the guards and having to be extra careful – I really did. It wasn't just a game. But it was hard to go from being completely on my own and independent to wandering around cluelessly in an empty penthouse while my boyfriend was running around saving the world."

"Well, he should have thought about that," Robert muttered, stretching out in his seat. "He should have thought about how it would make you feel. Men like him, Elizabeth, they only care about one thing – number one. Morgan doesn't know how to treat women; he's got a terrible track record, from my understanding. He might promise to reform, but it's hard to teach an old dog new tricks."

"Okay, see, you need to stop that," Elizabeth chuckled to herself, rubbing her temples. "It's fine for _me_ to say stuff like that, but not you, Robbie. You're just making me angry with him, and I don't want to be angry with him anymore. It's exhausting."

"It makes you want to tear your hair out," the older man said softly. "You wonder how any one person can be so stubborn and so infuriating and so clueless…and why you still care so much."

A long silence stretched out between them, until Elizabeth finally broke it. "I can't even _imagine_ what you and Anna must have been like when you were working together. It must have really been something."

"Oh, it was," Robert smiled fondly. "The thing with Anna and me…is that we always managed to find each other again. I don't believe in fate, but _something_ pulled us back together time and time again. We first met through Sean Donnelly – I remember giving him hell for sticking me with a partner, and a woman, to boot. We lived in Italy for a while – got married there the first time. I still remember the fountain where _il padre_ stood, and the lace veil that Filomena gave Anna. And even after we ended…seven years later, there was Robin, the perfect combination of both of us. And Anna wasn't far behind. Even after the mess with Faison…I always knew we'd meet up again."

"In Mexico," Elizabeth finished happily, making Robert chuckle.

"Yes, in Mexico."

"Is it worth it, though, Robbie?"

"Is what worth it, doll?"

"…Seeing each other again, but knowing that your feelings aren't the same," Elizabeth replied quietly, searching for the right words. "I mean…you're not in love anymore. You're just…colleagues. Not partners. Is it worth it, to see her again and know that things aren't the same?"

"It's always worth it," Robert answered firmly. "No one knows what's in the future, Elizabeth, but the past is something that you'll always have, no matter what. Anna and I might not be chasing each other around the retirement home any time soon, but she'll always be the woman I loved, and the mother of my child. It's _always _worth it."

She sat silently for several minutes. "…But don't you want more? Don't you _want_ something in the future?" Robert didn't answer for a long time, and with each second Elizabeth grew more and more uneasy until she just wanted to kick herself. "I-I'm sorry, Robbie, that's none of my business. I didn't mean to pry like that-"

"It's all right, Elizabeth," he answered quietly. "The thing about me and Luke is…we don't sit and plot out the future. We don't even worry about the future. I realize it's very immature of us, especially now, but that's the way we've always been. We live for the day and go to sleep thankful that we're still alive. Everything we both have – our families, namely – we lucked into. Neither of us planned on being fathers. Neither of us planned on being role models. We just wanted to be two reckless, narcissistic men who answered to no one. And we've succeeded, haven't we? The price we pay, I suppose…is any right to dream of the future."

"That doesn't sound like a good way to live," she responded in a small voice, picking at her nails once more.

"No, it's not," Robert sighed. "But it suits us just fine. It's always suited us. We _like_ being James Bond. We like swinging in and saving the world at the last possible second. And that's why, for a while, Anna and I were so perfect. We were from the same world, the same environment. But that ruined us, too, in the end."

He looked out the window, as if temporarily forgetting her presence. "You know…it's fine to be independent. It's fine to want to know what's going on and not be shuffled off or treated like a child. There is nothing wrong with that. I'll go one step further and say that it's all right to be fiercely independent and guard your own freedom. That's how I was. That's how Anna was. But at the end of the day…I was the only one she allowed to rescue her. And for that, I loved her beyond reason. Even when I knew it was bad for me, bad for her. Even when I knew it would put both of us in danger. Even when all I wanted was for her to be safe, and to let me handle the problem. We loved each other beyond reason…and no matter what comes next, we'll always have that."

She had never pegged Robert Scorpio as a romantic. She liked him, sure, but that didn't prevent her from noticing his not-so-charming qualities. But for an embittered, lonely, narcissistic old man, he made a lot of sense. No matter what happened – whether she and Jason worked or not – she'd always have their time in the studio, their time on the docks, their time on his bike. They, too, had been pulled back together time and time again, with little rhyme or reason, and though she still didn't know what to make of that, it did provide her with a glimmer of hope.

It was clear that Anna still stayed with Robert after all these years, and that despite his questionable actions, his family was very precious to him. Anna had apparently forgiven him for faking his death, but she still kept some distance between the two of them – maybe because she didn't trust him not to do something like that in the future, and she wasn't ready to get hurt like that again. It was all striking a bit too close to home, and Elizabeth didn't press Robert for any further conversation on the subject. Instead, she rested her head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes, forcing herself to admit that there was a part of her that liked it when Jason sprang into super-protective mode and rescued her. It was all too complicated for one plane ride, and she hoped that she'd be thinking a bit more clearly when they touched down on solid ground again.

Letting out a sigh, she turned toward a slumbering Jason, who was now looking out the window as well, lost in his own thoughts.


	20. 20

**Note: **As always, thanks for the feedback. This story would be nothing without your continued interest and support, and for that, I thank all of you.

Also, this is going to be so cliché, but you simply must forgive me, otherwise I'll never forgive myself for opting for the tried-and-true hotel room gag.

Click in the signature/profile to get the link to Solo Ensemble, where this is archived.

* * *

**The Battle of Who Could Care Less – 20**

The sun had just set when they arrived in the city of Oxford, England, and Robert Scorpio was not pleased. Their trip to Tamaulipas had taken longer than scheduled when the truck blew a tire and then they hit road blocks; there had been some turbulence en route to London, so Waldo had to make a brief stop and detour; and the cab driver that drove them the fifty-seven miles from the London Airport to Oxford drove like a ninety-year old woman.

"Let's find someplace halfway decent to hang our hats," the agent sighed, paying the cab driver and grabbing his light duffel bag. "Come on, hurry it up."

Jason handed Elizabeth her small drawstring tote and grabbed his own, shutting the car door and turning toward the older man. "Where are we going?"

"This way," the petite brunette at his side ordered, pointing down the corner. Jason and Robert looked at each other and shrugged, following the young woman as she led the way. According to Elizabeth, she and her family had often visited her father's friend at his Oxford flat, and even though she hadn't traveled to England since she was fourteen, she still remembered the way to the hotel they had stayed in every other summer on their trips across the pond. The excursions had been among the happier moments in her childhood; once in Oxford, her parents didn't seem to mind what she did, so Elizabeth had the freedom to explore the town on her own. It was certainly paying eight years later.

Jason and Robert each kept a vigilant lookout for a shapeless enemy as Elizabeth led them to their destination. Presently, they found themselves standing in front of a quaint hotel, and that was when Robert took the lead.

The clerk at the desk was a young man in glasses, and he looked up from his newspaper with considerable disdain as the threesome approached. "Good evening, and welcome to The Trilling Inn. How may I help you?"

"We need any three neighboring rooms," Robert informed him, already reaching into his pocket for his wallet. "If that's not possible, two will be fine – one single, one double."

"I'm sorry, sir," the clerk sniffed, clicking away on his keyboard. "We only have two adjacent doubles."

"That's fine," the detective replied quickly, sliding his fake identification card across the counter and waiting as the young man finished entering his information. He snatched the room keys and his card from the clerk and motioned for Jason and Elizabeth to follow. "Come on, hurry it up."

"Robert," Jason called out as they headed toward their rooms. "Let me cover you for our stay."

"No need," came the indifferent reply. "This is what the Bureau's expense account is for."

"That's a nice way of saying, _keep your dirty money to yourself_," Elizabeth snickered, elbowing the enforcer in the stomach. Jason rolled his eyes, suppressing a smirk, and nearly bumped into Robert when the older man stopped abruptly.

"This is it," he announced, gesturing to the two rooms on his right and left. "Now, Elizabeth, it's up to you. You can take this room and Morgan and I can share the other-"

"And shoot each other in your sleep?" the brunette asked, quirking a brow as she plucked one of the room keys from the older man's hand. "I don't think so. Jason and I are both adults – we can share a room."

A look of relief passed through his eyes, but the detective still took the time to glare at the young mobster. "You watch yourself, Morgan," he growled before disappearing into his room.

"What the hell was that supposed to mean?" Jason snorted, waiting patiently as Elizabeth unlocked the door and let them in.

"It means, paws off," the brunette replied cheerfully, dropping her tote onto a nearby chair and heading toward the bathroom. "I'll be right back."

She left him to unpack the few items he had brought along and slipped into the modest washroom, shutting the door behind her and breathing a sigh of relief. She and Jason hadn't spoken much since her conversation with Robert on the plane, and she wasn't sure how much he had overheard. But surprisingly enough, she wasn't embarrassed that he had been awake and heard her. They'd probably wind up discussing it sooner or later, especially since they were in such tight quarters, and that was just fine with her.

Finishing up, she washed her hands and dried them on one of the faded blue towels before stepping out into the room. Jason's empty duffel bag sat on the dresser – apparently, neither of them wanted to be the first to touch the lone queen-sized bed in the middle of the room – and he was flipping through his wallet, making sure he had all of his information handy.

Tucking her hair behind her ears, Elizabeth casually slipped past him and grabbed her own duffel bag. It only took her a moment to dump her underwear, tank tops and wrinkled pajamas into a drawer, and she tossed the empty tote bag on top next to his duffel bag.

A knock on the door saved them from having to make awkward conversation, and both Jason and Elizabeth looked up when Robert poked his head into the room. "Oh, good, he's exhibiting at least a modicum of self-control," the detective muttered, tipping his head to the side. "C'mon – let's get some food. I noticed a little deli down the street. Hungry?"

"Starving," Elizabeth replied, grabbing her wallet from the dresser and following Robert out of the room. "Coming, Jason?"

He nodded, tucking his revolver into his waistband. "Let's go."

"Now, Elizabeth, I'm going to give you your most important lesson in being on the run," Robert started, waiting as Jason carefully locked the door and pulled it shut. "You are to keep your passport and your ID card on your person at all times – and always in your front pockets, never in the back. You keep it under your pillow at night if you're lucky enough to be sleeping on a bed, and you grab it again when you wash up, if-"

"-If you're lucky enough to be someplace with running water," the brunette finished with a smirk. "Got it, Robbie."

"Good," the detective sniffed, motioning her forward. "Now, if you're done mocking me, perhaps we can get some food."

* * *

Dinner was a quick and casual affair. Robert and Jason had eaten methodically, always keeping an eye open for a faceless specter, and Elizabeth had felt every bit the wide-eyed child, swinging her legs from the three-foot tall stools as she sipped her soda.

After downing the last of their meal, she had persuaded Robert and Jason into going into town, and both men had groaned aloud as if they were being tortured when she dragged them into a discount apparel store. They had expected to be there for hours while she searched and deliberated, and Elizabeth could tell the two men were pleasantly surprised and impressed when she emerged not fifteen minutes later having purchased a pair of black jeans, two simple sweaters in black and cranberry, and a pair of thick-soled black boots with a functional one-inch heel. She had plenty of underwear and tank tops in her tote bag, and if she mixed and matched wisely, these few articles would be more than sufficient for their travels.

Once that was done with, the threesome returned to their hotel room. All were exhausted after a long day's expedition, so much so that Robert and Jason didn't even bother sniping at each other as each man disappeared into his respective room. Ever the gentleman, Jason let Elizabeth into the bathroom first and sat around staring at the ceiling, trying not to picture her naked while the shower ran, and failing miserably.

When Elizabeth finally came out, flushed pink from the hot water and already dressed in her pajamas, she was mildly surprised at how fast Jason raced into the bathroom after her. Shrugging it off, she focused on unpacking her meager purchases and stowing them away in the dresser drawer that she had claimed.

She stared suspiciously at the monstrous bed while she went about towel-drying her long hair and securing a safe hiding spot for the ruby necklace. By the time Jason got out of the showers dressed only in a pair of unbuttoned blue jeans, she was finished with what would soon become her on-the-lam nighttime ritual, and both the enforcer and the young woman simply stared at each other across the massive bed that took up most of the room.

Rolling her eyes, Elizabeth settled her hands on her hips and tipped her chin up. "Okay, there's no need to be weird about this. We're both adults, and it's not like we haven't slept in the same bed before. You made me sleep on the couch at my studio with you that one night when you were shot before I moved back to the floor, remember? We've done this before. And as long as we stay on our own sides, this doesn't have to be weird."

Jason smirked, his cerulean orbs twinkling. "So get in."

She glared at him, her lips set in a thin red line, but defiantly grasped the covers anyway and flipped them back. Plopping down, she took a moment to peel off her socks and didn't notice Jason's blatant perusal of her nymph-like body under a pair of striped cotton boxers and pink tank top, sans bra. With a huff, she pitched her balled-up socks across the room to land on top of her shoes, and then slipped under the covers, her back toward him.

Jason shook his head and shucked his jeans, folding them across the back of a nearby chair, and followed suit. He flopped down on his back, letting out a grunt when his head hit the pillow and prompting Elizabeth to shoot him a concerned look over her shoulder.

"You okay?"

He nodded wearily, his eyes closed, and made no move to slide under the covers. "This is _so_ much better than those goddamn cots in Mexico."

She laughed, tearing her eyes off of his magnificent form concealed only by a pair of snug black boxers, and turned away again. "Oh, come on, it wasn't _that_ bad."

"Easy for you to say," he snorted, finally slipping under the blankets. "You're five feet tall and weigh all of ten ounces."

Elizabeth smirked, tucking her hair behind her ear, and waited for Jason to stop shifting on the mattress and settle down. Finally, the enforcer stopped moving and the two of them lay in silence, listening to the other breathe. She was just beginning to wonder how _either_ of them would be able to get any sleep in this ridiculous situation when she felt him shift again after a long moment.

"I didn't know you were so upset when Sonny died."

She closed her eyes when she heard his voice over her shoulder. He had heard her tell Robert that she cried herself to sleep for three nights after Sonny allegedly died in a hail of bullets in front of the church. Elizabeth sighed, fisting her hand in the cotton sheet bunched around her small frame. "You weren't home enough to know."

A shattered, guilty silence stretched out between them. Jason said nothing – all she heard was his slow, rhythmic breathing. She sighed to herself, realizing that her words had been more accusing than she had intended.

"Sonny was important to me."

She could sense his surprise at her unexpected explanation by the little tremors that raced through the mattress, indicating that he had turned his head to watch her while she spoke.

"I felt like I could talk to him. We both connected in a weird way – we were…outcasts. Misfits. We both felt like we didn't belong, like we weren't wanted, like we weren't good enough. I just felt like I could talk to him. I remember…" she trailed off, blinking away the unexpected tears that pricked her eyes, and tried furiously to keep the sadness from slurring her words or making her voice thick.

"I remember being there with him when Carly's baby died. I remember the look on his face, the look in his eyes, and it was like he didn't want to talk to anyone anymore – he just wanted someone to be there with him. And he helped me when Lucky came back and didn't remember loving me. He was just there for me."

Jason watched her lift her shoulder in a helpless shrug and shrink visibly into her pillow, pulling the sheets up more tightly around herself.

"Sonny was my friend."

He turned his head away and closed his eyes. He heard her sniff quietly, and the mattress shifted a bit as she burrowed down under the sheets and tried to fall asleep. Glancing over at her turned back, he wondered how he could have ever wondered why she had been so upset over the deception. Sonny was her friend. And for once, it was as simple as that.

"Goodnight, Jason."

He swallowed roughly and turned his shoulder, his back now facing hers. "Goodnight."

* * *

Elizabeth Webber didn't like to play by the rules.

Especially when they were _her_ rules.

Jason smirked, listening to the birds chirp outside the window, but made no move to get up and extricate himself from the slumbering brunette currently in his arms. They had gone to sleep on opposite sides of the bed, facing in opposite directions, but sometime during the night…that had changed.

He fingered a silky lock of her hair that was trapped between his thumb and forefinger. Elizabeth was using his left arm as a pillow, and his fingers were tangled up in her tousled locks. Her head rested in the crook of his neck, her light breath fanning out over the sensitive skin there. His other arm was wrapped around her waist, where his hand had somehow traversed the boundary of her tank top and now lay splayed out against her upper back.

But Elizabeth wasn't innocent in this matter, either. She lay with her head tucked under his chin, and occasionally her plush lips would whisper against his neck. Her right hand was trapped between his hard chest and her exposed stomach, while the fingers of her other had slipped under his boxers and now rested intimately and without pretension on his bottom. Their legs were hopelessly tangled and he felt her every movement acutely – and vice versa, he was sure.

Not a bad way to start the morning off, as far as Jason was concerned.

He lay entwined with her for a long moment, until he felt her breathing shift. Knowing that she would soon be awake and utterly mortified at what had apparently happened over the course of the night, the enforcer carefully extricated himself from the lovers' embrace and slipped out of bed, heading straight to the shower.

When he came out ten minutes later, dressed in his jeans and a clean t-shirt, he found that Elizabeth was already up and talking on her cell phone – with Robert, no doubt. Ending the conversation, she tossed the phone onto her pillow and shot past him to the bathroom, calling out over her shoulder that the detective was already up and ready to go, and they had fifteen minutes to report outside for duty.

Jason straightened up the bed and reloaded his gun, and sure enough, there was a loud knock on the door fifteen minutes later. Unhurriedly, he tucked his weapon into his jeans and ran a hand through his damp hair, combing it with his fingers as he strode to the door. Robert Scorpio waited on the other side, his features tensing into a scowl when his least favorite person opened the door.

"Took you long enough, Morgan." The young man didn't say anything, and instead maintained his stoic countenance, annoying the detective. "Where's Elizabeth?"

"Right here!" Quick as a flash, Elizabeth shot out of the door with her sweater in hand, and quickly pulled it on over her white camisole and black jeans as Jason secured the door. "Let's go. We can take the bus over to the campus – there's a stop at the corner."

They headed for the bus stop without even thinking about breakfast. Robert and Jason were programmed to go long hours without any food or water, and Elizabeth was simply too excited about this next step on their adventure to even realize that she was hungry. After a short ride, they found themselves standing at the gates of the nine-hundred-year old university, looking in at the sprawling green campus and the students that were just about ready to begin their day of summer interim classes.

"The main building is this way," Elizabeth directed, ushering the two men in with her. "I don't remember where his office is, but I'm sure we can find out."

They expected to garner a few strange looks from a couple passing students, and Elizabeth was somewhat surprised when they were left alone. But she supposed, after all, that she looked like she could fit in with the Oxford crowd – a young woman dressed in black jeans and a preppy cranberry sweater wasn't anything out of the ordinary on an overcast day at one of England's most prestigious universities. And Jason with his blue jeans and leather jacket – he could pass, in a pinch, she supposed. And Robert could be mistaken for a faculty member or part-time instructor.

It was quite amusing, though – the thought of a renowned international spy of James Bond proportions and an enforcer for a powerful East Coast syndicate, passing for an instructor and student at Oxford University. The vision made her giggle, and both Robert and Jason looked at her strangely as they walked down the pathway.

"What's so funny?" the detective demanded.

"Nothing," she chuckled, trying to contain her laughter. "I was just picturing the two of you with glasses and a slide rule."

"Please refrain," Robert muttered, rolling his eyes. "I'd like to forget those days, if at all possible. Morgan there has me beat on that one, at least."

Jason ground his teeth together but remained silent, and was rewarded for his patience when Elizabeth casually slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow as a gusty wind began to blow. Presently, they arrived at the main building and the two men stood by as the brunette explained that she was an old friend of Professor Oscar MacDougal, and that she had come to pay him a visit and would very much like to know where she might find him.

Having received detailed instructions to the appropriate building, the threesome ducked out and did their best to casually stroll over to where Elizabeth's friend awaited them. It was an impressive stone building with gothic arches, and the trio quickly climbed up the steps and entered. It took them a moment to find the wing where the professors' offices were located and before long, they were trailing down a dark, narrow hallway after Elizabeth as the brunette searched for his room.

"Okay," she started, glancing over her shoulder at the two men and lowering her voice. "When we get in there, I'm telling him that you're my two friends, Luke and Lucky Spencer."

Both Robert and Jason came to a halt with matching looks of disgust on their faces. "Must you?" the detective asked, shivering a bit. "I feel all dirty at just the thought."

"Let me put it this way," Elizabeth frowned. "This man has known my father since he was in college and they talk once every two weeks. Can you imagine the conversation this weekend? _Oh, Jeffrey, son, Lizzie paid me a visit this past week. Oh, you didn't know? She showed up with her two friends. One was a WSB agent who's been faking his death for the past twelve years, and the other was a mobster. What? You mean you didn't know your youngest daughter was traipsing around the world with those two?_"

She glared at the two men, wagging her index finger. "Then I'll get a bunch of angry phone calls from my mother and trust me, that's the last fricking thing I need. If my dad hears that I'm in England with Luke and Lucky, he won't care that I'm traveling abroad because at least I have the Spencer men with me. He knows they're crazy enough to grab me and run around Europe without any warning. Plus, he's heard that Laura's…living here, and I'm sure Gram told him that Lulu's been at the boarding school in Wales for a few years now. So that's why you're Luke and Lucky – got it?"

The men nodded, looking at each other as the petite brunette whirled around and resumed her search. Finally, she came to a stop before a wooden door that was slightly ajar, and knocked before poking her head in. "Dr. Wilde?" It was a childhood nickname that she and her siblings had adopted for the older man, whom their father told them shared his peculiar sense of humor with the famous Mister Wilde with whom he also shared his first name. "Hello?"

A white-haired, seventy-year old Scotsman dressed in a brown suit looked up from his desk at the soubriquet. There were only three people in the entire world that called him by that name, and he could barely believe his eyes when he saw one of them standing behind his door.

"Lizzie? Lizzie Love, is that you?" He straightened, a joyous smile playing upon his lips as the young woman grinned back. "Do come in, love, do come in. Oh, but it's been a while!"

His accent was just as she remembered it, and Elizabeth was laughing as she launched herself into his arms. Dr. Wilde had always been one of her favorites among her father's friends – the old man actually listened to her and cared about what she thought, and he always purchased some candy right before their visit just for her. He was one of the few people that liked and valued her more than Steven or Sarah, and for that, he had her undying love and allegiance.

"What in the world are you doing here, child?" He asked, tucking her hair behind her ears as he marveled at her. "And look how you've grown – the last time I saw you, you had braces and very curly hair. And look at you now. How is everyone? Steven, Sarah? Are they with you as well?"

She shook her head, hearing Jason and Robert shuffle their feet at the door, which was now standing completely open. "Nope. Mom and Dad are in Bosnia, I think. Steven's back in Colorado and Sarah's in France."

"La Sorbonne?" the professor guessed, receiving a nod.

"Yup. She was staying in Port Charles with me and Gram for a while, but…things didn't work out so she left. Everyone's fine, though."

"Good to hear it," her Dr. Wilde replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "And now, you _must_ tell me to what I owe this delightful surprise."

"I actually…need your help," she grinned, her sapphire eyes sparkling when he smirked down at her. "See, I bought this necklace at an antique shop as a gift, and it's got this weird writing on the back, and I was wondering if you could help me find out what it means." She turned toward the door, motioning the two men in. "I'm actually here with two friends – this is Luke Spencer and his son, Lucky. Dad's probably told you about them. Anyway, we got the necklace for Lucky's mom, who lives here in England now, and…"

She stopped when Oscar's grip on her hands tightened, and looked up to see that her father's old friend had suddenly turned pale and was now staring hard at Robert and Jason. The two men exchanged glances, unsure of what prompted this reaction, and Elizabeth could see that they were beginning to fear that their reputations had preceded them.

"No need to lie, Elizabeth," the professor assured her calmly, his hard gray eyes still trained on the two guests. "I already know that neither of these men are who you say they are."


	21. 21

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 21**

She could have sworn that her heart skipped a beat. Its rhythmic pounding in her chest grew louder until it was thundering in her ears as the brunette stared up at the man she had known since she was a child. He had given her the first blanket she had owned as an infant – a blue one with a crescent moon on it because he believed that gender aesthetic stereotyping was merely an attempt to suppress society's aversion to gender conversion – and used to dance with her to _Waltzing Matilda_.

And now, he was looking directly at Robert and Jason and he knew exactly who they were.

Elizabeth gulped and took a step back, but his grip on her hand turned vice-like, anchoring her to him. Jason's eyes darkened and he instantly moved toward her, but Robert's arm stretched out in front of him held him back, as did the icy glare in Dr. Oscar MacDougal's hard gray eyes.

"Close the door."

Jason didn't move, and the older professor looked at him pointedly.

"Close the door, _Morgan_." His voice was terse, each word clipped, and the older man made it quite clear that he was not to be disobeyed. Jason eyed Robert, who was still studying the man carefully, and only shut the door when the detective nodded.

He and Elizabeth exchanged anxious glances as the two older men continued to size each other up. Whatever was going on – it was _not_ good. Her hand remained trapped in his, but the hold was looser now that Dr. MacDougal was focusing singularly on Robert and had abandoned the mobster.

Jason watched the professor's grey eyes twinkle as the corner of his mouth twitched, and he looked over to see if Robert had any idea of what was going on. But the agent's brows were furrowed and he appeared lost in thought as he carefully studied the older man, wondering why on earth he thought he looked familiar.

Finally, MacDougal spoke in a voice so soft that it was like the rustling of leaves in the tree outside his office window. "Pegasus."

Robert's pale blue eyes narrowed at the use of his classified code name, and Jason could tell the man was at a complete and total loss for words. But as he continued to study the man, noting his strong build, lean frame, and shifty eyes…

The detective broke out in a rare ear-to-ear grin. "Gray Brother."

Elizabeth looked up at Dr. MacDougal, confused, and found that he was grinning back at Robert as well. "It's good to see you again, Robert."

"We thought you had passed on thirty _years_ ago," the agent exclaimed, shaking his old friend's hand firmly and clapping him on the back. "We saw the warehouse explode – saw the Egyptian guards uncover your remains…or fragments of your remains, anyway." He took a step back, studying the old man again with a pleased glimmer in his eyes. "You look…different. Good."

"Yes, well, I needed to have some work done after the incident to assure that I wouldn't be found," the professor replied, giving an answer to Robert's earlier confusion over how familiar his eyes were, but nothing else. He had clearly had a nose job and other parts of his face had been redone as well, but it was the eyes that remained unchanged and familiar.

"So, what happened?" Robert asked, focusing on his old friend and temporarily forgetting the confused younger couple in the room. "Who did you in? What was the reason-"

"My position had put me in a grave deal of danger, not to mention jeopardized a good number of the agency's covert operations," he replied quickly. "To ensure the safety of both, the agency came to me and plotted out my apparent demise. After the warehouse exploded, I underwent cosmetic surgery to alter my appearance and was set up in England with an assumed identity."

"Amazing," Robert murmured, pacing around the small office. "You're still with the Bureau?"

"Oh, assuredly," the older man replied, puffing out his chest. "Only my services are intensely classified now to ensure that the past does not repeat itself."

"Naturally. I can imagine that you've got-"

"Woah, woah, woah." Elizabeth stepped in between the two men, her arms crossed defensively over her chest as she stared down each of them. "I'm sorry to cut the reunion short, but can one of you _please_ explain this to me before my head explodes? Dr. Wilde, you _know_ this man?"

"Know him?" The professor grinned at the detective. "Lizzie Love, I had been with the agency for years before they brought in a cocky young buck named Robert Scorpio. I even accompanied him on the hunt for the Aztec treasure. By the way, how _is_ Sean these days? Do you hear from him?"

"Ah, Donnelly," Robert grinned at the mention of his best friend, the former head of the WSB who had turned out to be the mastermind after the Aztec treasure in the first place, leading to a six-year long rift between the two of them. "Yes, yes. He's doing well."

"Last I heard, reports said he was shot by your friend Luke Spencer."

The detective shrugged off the mild accusation in Oscar's voice. "Yes, but he recovered well. Still with Tiffany, you know. They have a boy – got to be about fifteen or so now. They both managed to disappear, and I think it's for the best. This life is not conducive to family."

"Yes, and who better to know that than us?" Oscar remarked sagely. He glanced at Elizabeth, who was still glowering up at him, and quickly remembered the point of their conversation. "Oh, yes, Lizzie, we both worked together for the World Security Bureau in the past."

"So you're an _agent_?" she got out, wobbling back a step. "You've been an agent for…"

"Oh, since I was about twenty, Love," he replied, nodding proudly. "To this day, I hold the record for youngest agent ever hired."

Robert was nodding along. "Elizabeth, the man before you is none other than Faolan Beathan Adair – known to us in the organization as Grey Brother." He smirked at his old friend, shaking his head. "And now the wolf has become the deer, eh?"

The professor laughed, offering an explanation when he saw the confused look on Elizabeth's face. "The name _Faolan_ means wolf, dear heart, while _Oscar_ carries the connotation of a deer. I was given the code name of Grey Brother by the Bureau because of the character's role as the intermediary between two worlds – the civilized and the natural – in Kipling's book."

"He's an art scholar," Robert clarified, pointing affectionately at the old man. "Not to mention one of the most brilliant minds in cryptography on the planet. We used to seek his services all the time – any mission, you name it, we'd bring back the artifact and let him work his magic. He made sense of things that we didn't even think to notice, and is responsible for some of the greatest victories the Bureau holds to this day."

"Come now, Robert," Oscar scoffed. "It wasn't all that much. You're doing fine without me these days, aren't you?"

Elizabeth's dark brows furrowed. "But I thought you said you were still with the Bureau."

"Darling, my position is a classified and restricted one. In the past, my fame as a cryptographer preceded me and I became easily identifiable among the less savory characters of the world."

"It was mostly our fault," Robert admitted. "In hindsight, we used him for everything and left him open to attack. He was made an easy target."

"And because of that, I was putting the missions at risk as well," Oscar agreed. "So the Bureau decided the best way to keep me on for my talents would be to fake my death and resurrect me as a secret contact far removed from the battleground. So now I work here, I teach my students, and occasionally I receive packages by courier which I take to a lab facility professedly own by the institution but under private lease by the Bureau. Within a few days, I send the package back and resume my work."

"Does anyone know about this?" She was wringing her hands, just like she always did when she was particularly anxious. "I mean…Dad, Mom…?"

"No, Elizabeth, not a soul outside of select members of the Bureau," Oscar informed her quietly. "And that's how it must stay, Love. Do you understand?" She nodded mutely, and Oscar once again glanced at his old friend. "And now it appears to be my turn to ask questions – Lizzie Love, how on earth did you fall in with these two characters?"

The brunette bit her lip, still wringing her fingers as she looked helplessly at Robert. "Honestly…I couldn't tell you."

The detective chuckled at the puzzled look on her face and clapped a hand down on the professor's shoulder. "Faolan, you'll be surprised to know that I met your little friend in the town of Calvillo in Aguascalientes."

The old man's gray eyes widened. "Buenaventura's stronghold? What on _earth_ were you doing there, Lizzie?"

"I remember something about jellybeans," she murmured, reaching for one of the antique leather armchairs that sat near his desk. "I need to sit down."

Jason inched closer to her as Robert resumed the conversation until he was stationed protectively next to Elizabeth who was still muttering to herself about secret agents and bunkers and those _goddamn jellybeans._

"A contact of mine was murdered trying to infiltrate Buenaventura's villa," the detective began, leaning casually against a large bookshelf that loomed in the corner. "He died trying to recover an artifact, and I went down there to investigate the situation. I knew I'd need assistance so I called in Luke Spencer and his boy, Lucky."

Oscar shook his head, exasperated. "Why must you _always_ do that, Robert? You know our file on Spencer is twice as big as the one on Morgan and his friend Corinthos. And yet you insist on bringing that man into every-"

"Luke is shady, but he's got a great mind for these capers," Robert disagreed. "He brought Elizabeth down with him to Calvillo and we were housed by members of the _Libertad _party. Elizabeth here went undercover into the Don's house to search for the unknown artifact that my contact had been seeking."

"Elizabeth? Is this true?"

She looked blankly back into his intense gray eyes. "…Yeah."

Robert quickly intervened, noticing the horrified look that crossed his old friend's face. "Not to worry, Faolan – she was wonderful. She retrieved the artifact in about a week and we hightailed it out of town and came straight here. And now we need your help."

The professor's white brows furrowed as he slipped his thumbs through his belt loops. "Yes, of course, I'm more than happy to assist in any way I can. But, Robert-"

"So all those times that Dad invited you to come stay with us in Colorado," Elizabeth interjected, her own brows pinched together as she thought back over all the years she had known him. "You always said no because…"

"Because it's dangerous for me to leave the country, Love," he answered gently. "Also, there's no telling when the Bureau needs my assistance, and a deferral of even a day or two is the difference between life and death."

Elizabeth nodded, lapsing back into silence as Jason looked down at her, concerned, and the professor once again turned to Robert.

"Now, what is it that I am looking at, Robert?"

The detective reached into his side pocket and pulled out a white handkerchief. Unwrapping it, he revealed the large ruby set in silver and carefully watched as the art scholar studied it. "This is her. Ain't she something?"

A long moment passed before he could say anything. "This was found in Buenaventura's collection?"

Robert nodded. "Yes."

"Strange," he murmured, fingering the chain and the ornate silver work. "This doesn't appear to be a Mexican design…"

"Well…I haven't exactly told you the whole of it," the younger agent admitted, scratching the back of his head. "The necklace doesn't belong to Buenaventura himself, per se."

"Ah," Oscar mused, stroking his white beard. "So who does it belong to, per se?"

"Helena Cassidine," Elizabeth replied simply, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back in the leather chair. The initial shock was beginning to wear off and she had to remember why they had come here in the first place. "She had at least one of her own men on the inside looking for the artifact, but I got it first."

"Helena," the professor cursed, shaking his head. "She's at it again, is she? Tell me, Robert, does she know you have this?"

The detective exchanged glances with Elizabeth. "To the best of our knowledge, no. We have two days left before the party strikes against Buenaventura – Agent Devane is stationed down there to assist with the coup. In two days, however…she'll know."

"You'll want to get in touch with Bunbury in Paris – he's the one who's been tracking Helena for the past twenty years," Oscar informed him, taking the handkerchief and the necklace. He moved toward his desk, followed closely by Robert and Jason. "He'll be able to provide some assistance as well."

"I've got Pentagruel meeting up with us here in a few days," Robert added, taking up an armchair next to Elizabeth as Oscar carefully situated the necklace on his desk. "You know of him, correct?"

The professor nodded absently. "Yes, yes, promising young man. This is very interesting, Robert. Especially…this."

Elizabeth watched as he ran his finger over the beveled script on the back of the silver plate. "Do you know what it is?"

"Offhand? No." He looked up at the three of them, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "I'll need some time to decipher it. It looks vaguely similar to an ancient dialect of Greek specific to the region situated directly between the Tigris and the Euphrates…and yet, it's completely different. I'll have to work on this."

His serious gray eyes met the detective's solemn blue ones. "It was good of you to bring me this, Robert. I'll do the best I can."

"We have faith in you, Faolan," he replied quietly, rubbing his palms absently over his knees. "And we'll need all the help we can get trying to figure out what Hell's Bells is up to this time."

"If she's trying to freeze the world again, you're all set," the professor joked. "You've still got your notes saved from the last time she did that?"

Robert grinned and shook his head. "That's the thing about the old girl – she never wears the same international crisis twice."

Oscar nodded, his attention once again turning to the necklace. "I'd like to have a cast made of this, if at all possible. Robert?"

"That sounds fine."

"Good – you'll accompany me to the lab, won't you? I'll set it and it'll be ready soon. Then you can take the necklace and secure it – I really don't desire for any one of my sniveling freshmen to come in during office hours and spy it."

Robert answered with a chuckle, nodding. "Yes, that's fine. We'll do that now. Elizabeth, Jason – there's no need for the two of you to stay. Go out, have some breakfast together and get some rest. I'll be back as soon as we're done."

The brunette nodded and rose from the armchair, stretching out her legs. "Okay, that's fine. I'm starving anyway. You wanna go, Jason?"

"Elizabeth-" Oscar – or Faolan, rather, she supposed – glanced warily at Jason before turning toward the young woman. "Lizzie Love, it was wonderful to see you again. I apologize if all this took you by surprise. I never imagined-"

She surprised him by smiling and waving it off. "It's fine, Dr. Wilde, really. Honestly…it's all kind of funny. I mean, what are the odds that I would meet a secret agent, and what are the odds that I would introduce that agent to another undercover agent? It's really…wow."

He watched her laugh, chuckling himself, and gently took her hand. Elizabeth allowed the old man to pull him to her and hugged him back gently. "I'm glad you've got a sense of humor about you, Love. And you remember – you don't tell your father about my double life, and I won't tell him that you're cavorting with warlords and mobsters and inviting the wrath of a scorned Queen. It'll be our secret, Lizzie Love."

"Our secret," she agreed with a smile, rising on her toes to peck his cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

"Count on it, Love," he replied with a nod. "Hopefully, I'll have some information for you all by then. Robert, shall we?"

"We shall," the detective nodded, motioning Jason to open the door. "Thank you again for your help, Faolan, and I apologize for dropping in on you like this. I don't mean to exploit your skill like before-"

"You couldn't have known, Robert," the professor reminded him with a smirk. "Funny how fate manages to lead two people right back to each other, doesn't it?"

The detective smiled to himself, thinking of how incredibly lucky he was to have the chance to reunite with his old colleague as he watched Jason boldly take Elizabeth's hand and lead her out of the office. "Downright hilarious, Faolan."


	22. 22

**Note: **I'm back! Classes are dismissed for the summer! Woot!

**Translation Guide:**

She'll be apples – it'll be all right

Busy as a cat burying shit – very busy

Bunyip – mythical creature that lives in the Australian outback

* * *

**The Battle of Who Could Care Less – 22**

Her head was still spinning from the morning's discovery, and Elizabeth had to giggle every now and then as she pictured her father's face if she were to tell him that his most beloved undergraduate professor was an undercover agent in the employ of the World Security Bureau. She snickered as she and Jason hurriedly descended the steps of the Art History building; she chuckled as they wound their way toward a kiosk-bakery on campus that served coffee, pastries and newspapers; she tittered still as they walked through the streets of the town, not quite ready to return to the room they shared.

Jason, for the most part, remained silent as she indulged in quiet hilarity. There wasn't much that surprised him anymore – after all, surprises got you killed, even if they came in a pretty little box with a ribbon on top – but even he was silently rattled by what had transpired on the college campus not an hour earlier.

From what Elizabeth had told them of Dr. Macdougal – the man she and her siblings referred to as Dr. Wilde since they were little – was that he was her father's favorite professor during his undergraduate years at Oxford. They kept in touch even after Jeff Webber graduated and moved on to pursue his medical degree. Oscar MacDougal – or Faolan Adair, rather – had been the first person that Jeff and Carolyn called upon the births of their three children, and he always made sure to send thoughtful, personalized gifts. They visited him every other summer and he and her father would reminisce about the old days and 'talk shop', as Carolyn would have said. The two men even spoke over the phone every two weeks, and the professor had long been a permanent fixture in Elizabeth's life.

What surprised him most, however, was how the brunette had dealt with the discovery. She had been shocked at first, but that had given way to…amusement. Yes, Elizabeth Webber had been _amused_ to learn that her lifelong friend was a secret agent and had been leading a double life for the past thirty years.

He didn't know why, but that bothered him. Her reaction to the news actually _bothered_ him. After all, this was a man that she had been in close contact with since she was a child; she trusted him and admired him and relied on him. He had deceived her and her family for the past thirty years, just like Robert had deceived his for the past twelve years. The women – Elizabeth, Anna, Robin – had close personal relationships with the men and _trusted_ them, and yet both Robert and Oscar MacDougal had played the same game…

The realization, when it hit him, was one he wasn't entirely prepared for, and his steps faltered as he walked behind a contentedly window-shopping Elizabeth. The situation wasn't that much different from what had happened in Port Charles. Elizabeth had known him and Sonny since she was a young woman – barely eighteen years of age. She liked them, she trusted them, and she counted on them. They were her friends, as she had said the night before in bed, and they had betrayed her confidence in them just as Robert and Oscar did of their respective loved ones.

He watched as she trailed her fingers over a stone ledge that jutted out of the side of the massive building, nibbling her lip as she stared at a pair of ludicrously over-priced strappy blue sandals that he was sure would look _great_ on her. Rolling her eyes at the tag, she moved on and surveyed a collection of outlandish hats as he trailed behind her like a silent sentinel.

She had been angry when she learned of his deception. Furious. She had taken it to be personal when he genuinely had not meant it in that way in the least. She had packed up her things and moved out – given up. She had given up on him, and on them. But she didn't seem quite as upset this go around, and that was what bothered him. Her reaction had been of amusement, not anger, and it frustrated him because she had yet to voice anything on the matter. He couldn't read her mind, as much as he would have liked to, and as of yet he had very little to go on.

The brunette tapped her nails on the glass, about to move along when her dark sapphire eyes landed on a black fedora – a detective hat. The item made her giggle, and she couldn't resist glancing in Jason's direction with a crooked grin as she tapped the glass once again, indicating the hat. "Say what you want about secret agents, but they've got the _best_ wardrobe."

He didn't know quite what to make of that, but she wasn't looking for a response. Instead, she tucked her hands into the back pockets of the black jeans she wore _very_ well and continued, still laughing, to walk down the street and leaving him no choice but to follow.

They passed a bookstore next, walking side by side past window displays of the latest children's fantasy novel, smutty romance stories, historical novels, and the showcased Item of the Week – a DVD collection of all the _Sean Connery is…Bond. James Bond _movies. Elizabeth was still smiling as she lingered, checking out the display and then her reflection in the mirror, before pulling him along to the nearby antique shop.

"Suddenly, faking a death doesn't seem like the end of the world, after all," she chuckled, studying a pair of lacy black opera gloves that sat at the base of a tiara-wearing mannequin. Humming softly to herself, she moved past an old phonograph, leaving Jason standing alone on the sidewalk, completely bewildered.

But in a flash he was moving again, and was soon right by her side again. She smiled at a curious clerk who was eyeing her and Jason through the window and resumed her browsing, now squinting at a leather-bound atlas opened up to the African continent. A fancy fountain pen sat nearby, similar to the one that Sonny used to keep on his desk for decoration before moving it to the mantle after Michael accidentally squirted the ink all over the shirt of a local appellate judge.

She was acutely aware of Jason trailing after her, somewhat uncertain but still in dogged pursuit anyway. She knew that she had surprised him with her remark about staged deaths, and now he was wondering if it was a thinly veiled agreement to move on from the unfortunate incident.

Trying to shake off the affects of his proximity, Elizabeth moved on to the next window display. It was mainly jewelry – chokers studded with brilliant jewels, bangles from the far East, even ankle cuffs and oddly shaped rings and baubles. Jason, too, followed her gaze and their eyes came to rest at the same time on a simple silver chain bearing a small red amulet. It sparkled in the sunlight, almost as brilliantly as Elizabeth's eyes from the moment she spotted it.

Clearing his throat quietly, Jason spent a long moment deliberating on whether or not to voice a question that had long since been on his mind, and finally went for it. "Do you…do you still have that red glass?"

He regretted the question instantly when he saw the bright gleam in her eyes diminished, dulled. That was all he had been able to do lately – extinguish the spark in her midnight blue orbs. The corner of her mouth curved downward as she tapped the glass pane once more before letting her hand drop and withdrawing from him.

"I broke it," she replied softly, curling her fingers into a fist before turning from him and slipping away. He watched her slender form retreat, her shoulders drawn together as if to defend herself from the light gust, and let out a slow breath. Running a hand through his dark spikes, he cast one last look at the necklace she had admired and then stuffed his hands into his own pockets, following her wordlessly.

* * *

"I know it took us a bit longer than expected," Robert apologized, setting a plastic sack down on the small circular table in his room as Jason and Elizabeth lingered awkwardly near the large bed. "Sorry about that – it was a bit tricky to get the cast done but we managed it after all. All right – turkey's good with everyone, right? The meat looked a little fishy and I didn't want to risk it. Here you are, doll – have at it."

Elizabeth reached for the sandwich he offered her and grabbed a bottle of soda, making her way toward one of the wooden chairs in the room. Robert had just returned from his meeting with Dr. Wilde and had secured the necklace under his bed frame before moving on to more important matters – lunch. "Does Dr. Wilde think he can make sense of the bumps on the back?"

"Oh, I learned long ago not to underestimate Faolan," Robert smirked, shoving a wrapped sandwich at Jason and 'forgetting' to hand him a soda.

The young man rolled his eyes and simply reached for the beer Robert had reserved for himself, ignoring the older man's glare. He didn't care much about whether he drank a carbonated beverage made from corn syrup or hops, but he found it hard to keep from sticking it to the detective, especially since Robert made it clear that he had it out for him.

Elizabeth had noticed the exchange and hurriedly took a bite of her sandwich before Robert could see her laughing at him. "So…yeah, then?"

"He'll get it," Robert nodded confidently, frowning slightly as he picked up the soda and took the seat next to her. "It doesn't hurt that he's exactly in his element – the artifact counts as a piece of art, technically, and he has a knowledge of the different styles of ornamentation used in the region. He also thinks that the script is a language, and he seems to have it pretty much narrowed down to what time period it's from. She'll be apples, doll – just you wait and see."

Though she didn't quite understand what apples had to do with anything, Elizabeth nodded. "And your other friend's coming up from Egypt soon, right?"

Again, Robert nodded. "Within the next day or so. If Faolan hasn't figured it out by then, hopefully, they'll be able to help each other. Because the Good Lord knows that I sure don't have a clue."

The brunette smirked and the room slowly fell into silence as the threesome resumed eating. Robert, not keen on puttering around in an empty room all afternoon, seemed to encourage them silently to stay a while. Elizabeth was the last to finish and Robert idly handed her the television remote as he picked up the day's paper. Jason watched the two of them and slowly got up from his seat, making a point to toss away his beer bottle in the wastebasket right next to Robert's seat.

"You're staying here for a while, right?" he asked, barely glancing in Elizabeth's direction as he reached for the door. She murmured that she would, and he nodded, already half outside the room. "I'll be back in a while."

Robert glanced up as the door shut, then looked at Elizabeth over the top of his folded paper. "What was that about?"

The corner of her mouth curved sadly down as the brunette stared at the muted television. One step forward, two steps back. "Don't worry about it, Robbie."

* * *

It was late when Jason returned. Finding his own room empty, he walked a few paces down to Robert's and found Elizabeth asleep on top of the covers with the remote in her hand. The detective had gone through three local papers and was now almost finished with a Japanese number puzzle. He looked up, slightly confused when he saw Jason standing in the doorway, but nevertheless moved his papers out of the way and took the plastic sacks that the younger man carried in his hands.

Their gruff mumbling eventually woke up Elizabeth, and the brunette wearily pushed herself onto her elbows and peered at the two men from under a curtain of hair. "What's going on?"

"Your boy's been as busy as a cat burying shit," Robert smirked, his eyes twinkling as the young woman sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Come get some dinner, doll."

Jason handed her a take-out container with some sort of pasta in it along with a side salad and a bottle of water. He had brought along a case of beer, as well, and left it on the windowsill in Robert's room. Dinner was a casual affair, but slightly uncomfortable in that Robert was determined to figure out what had caused a rift between Jason and Elizabeth – and exacerbate it, if he possibly could.

Since neither of them gave in to his repeated attempts to bait them, the detective settled instead on filling up the hotel room with his idle talk, and as soon as he launched into the story of Holly's oil scam, Jason knew it was time to hightail it on out of there.

"Eat your greens, Elizabeth, or the Bunyip will get you," Robert teased the young woman as she picked at her dinner, glancing up in surprise when Jason moved toward the door. "Morgan, where are you going? I'm just about to get to the best part."

"Sounds great," Jason replied blandly over his shoulder just before he pulled the door shut and retreated to his own.

Robert frowned and shook his head. "Is it just my imagination, or is he _extra_ charming today?"

Elizabeth shook her head, smirking despite herself. "Leave it alone, Robbie."

He studied her for a moment, a slight frown twisting his features, and then resumed his puzzle as she began to pick at her salad again. It was no secret that he didn't particularly admire Jason, and had a hard time believing that two intelligent young women like Elizabeth and his own daughter did. If things had indeed gone sour between the two of them, the brunette could only be better off.

* * *

She stayed in Robert's room until it was quite dark outside, watching reruns of _Get Smart_ on the small television. He escorted her back to her hotel room despite her protests that it was only a few feet away, and Elizabeth took a deep breath as she quietly slipped into the room.

Jason had already showered and was in bed, turned on his side with his back facing her. She knew from his slow, rhythmic breathing that he was already asleep and did her best to shed her jeans and slip into her pajamas without waking him. Crawling onto the bed, she attempted to slip in between the covers without jostling the mattress much.

Once in place, she let out a sigh of relief that he hadn't woken up and adjusted her pillow, ready to get some sleep before going to see Dr. Wilde tomorrow about the necklace. She knew better than to expect that he'd have the entire thing decoded by then – he might have been brilliant, but he wasn't a miracle worker.

Shifting, she supported herself on her elbow and attempted to fluff her lumpy pillow. But when she reached under it to situate it better against the headboard, the back of her hand came in contact with what felt like a piece of tissue paper.

Frowning, she pulled the pillow away and squinted down at the small white packet laying underneath. With a soft murmur of curiosity, Elizabeth picked it up and absently set the pillow back in place. Jason didn't stir as she quietly undid the tape on the side and peeled the coarse white tissue paper back.

She felt a chain slip out onto her fingers and she grasped it, holding it up to the moonlight that managed to trickle in through the plastic blinds. A red gemstone twinkled gently under the pristine light, and Elizabeth gasped softly. It was the same necklace that she had spotted in the window of the antique shop – the same silver chain and the same square-shaped red amulet that was the exact shade of the broken red glass that was tucked into her canvas tote bag.

Her vision blurred momentarily as she fingered the stone, feeling its cool smoothness between the pads of her fingers. She couldn't wait to see it in the light. With a grin, she set it down carefully on the nightstand right next to her pillow, arranging the chain lovingly into a small coil before settling down on her pillow once again. Her sapphire eyes remained trained on the red stone that still glittered in the soft moonlight, smooth, brilliant, new, and whole.

* * *

Yeah, they were going to _have_ to stop waking up this way.

Jason Morgan smirked to himself, doing his best not to move at the risk of waking the brunette beauty that was currently cuddled against his bare back. Sometime during the course of the night, she had shifted so that she was facing in the same direction as him. Her arms had somehow found their way around his waist, and her small hands were now clasped in his large ones, right at his navel. Her legs were curled up right behind his, their ankles crossed together, and she rested her head near his shoulder with her lips whispering at his nape as she breathed. Her soft, warm body was pressed up flush against his strong back, her breasts flattened against the hard plane and her cheek resting against his tan skin.

She must have liked the necklace.

The thought made him grin, even though this experience might have been a little more satisfying to his ego if she hadn't found the gift yet. Still, it was no matter – he wasn't about to complain with Elizabeth Webber pressed up against him in a lover's embrace wearing nothing but a camisole and a pair of cotton boxers.

He swept his thumb over the back of her hand, listening to her breathe peacefully. He had wanted to be awake when she found the necklace, but it was better this way – it had afforded her some privacy with her own emotions. When she had said that she broken the glass that she had given him, he couldn't bear the sadness and guilt in her eyes – as if she had done it with malicious intent instead of simply out of misguided anger, as if in an attempt to shatter what he meant to her and vice versa.

It wasn't the end of the world, as she had said earlier. He wouldn't say that it didn't hurt slightly to know that she had taken the red disc and shattered it, but it wasn't the end. It didn't change anything as far as he was concerned, but it had been clear that Elizabeth felt it did – that she had disappointed him profoundly in the act and that it was unforgivable.

But women were like that, he supposed. Always placing so much importance on trinkets and baubles. Carly had been the same way when she had him buy her that fur coat and place her wedding rings back on her finger. The objects weren't important – only the meaning behind them.

But if the glass – and the fact that it was destroyed – mattered to Elizabeth, then it mattered to him to be able to fix it as best he could. Hopefully, she had understood what he had been trying to say in slipping the item under her pillow.

He was aware of her shifting slightly behind him, beginning to slowly emerge from her peaceful slumber. He waited, feeling her breathing rhythm change, and new from her quick intake of breath that she was alert and surprised to find herself in her current…_position_.

Jason waited for her to attempt to extricate herself from him without waking him, but a long moment passed and she still didn't show any signs of doing so. Instead, she settled down quietly on the pillow and remained snuggled against him. Apparently, she thought she'd let _him_ wake up first and remove himself from bed.

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from chuckling, and hoped she didn't feel the slight tremor of laughter that ran through him. They lay together for a long moment, until Elizabeth's phone vibrated on the nightstand - most likely Robert. Still convinced that Jason was asleep, Elizabeth let out a soft sigh and kissed the back of his neck before slipping her left hand from his hold and grabbing her cell phone. It took her a minute to skim Robert's text message telling them that he was up and on the move, and then she set it back down on the stand and wrapped her arm around his waist again.

The sweet kiss had been his undoing. This time when her hand found his again, Jason squeezed gently and began to roll over onto his other side, taking care not to harm her in the process. Elizabeth's eyes widened when she realized that he was now awake and showing no intention of slipping out of bed quietly, but she remained quiet and stared up at him as he propped himself up on his elbow above her.

Sleep had tousled his spikes, but his piercing cerulean orbs were alert and twinkling. She gazed up at him from sober sapphire eyes under a fringe of raven lashes, not moving as he gently shifted so that he was loosely framing her in his arms.

"Morning."

She matched his crooked, boyish grin with a Katherine Hepburn smile of her own. "Hey."

He lingered above her, his crystal eyes still twinkling, but said nothing further. Hesitantly, she raised her hands and rested them on his broad shoulders, encouraged when he dipped his head and moved closer. Letting out a shaky breath, she allowed her hands to wander behind his neck and she linked her fingers, threading her thumbs through his sandy locks.

"I like the necklace."

Jason ducked his head, his nose brushing hers, and smiled softly. "Good."

She swallowed roughly, surprised when tears once again pricked at the back of her eyes, and quickly blinked them away. "You didn't have to, you know."

This time he shook his head, his arm now slipping underneath her waist and anchoring her close to him. "I wanted you to have it."

The sentiment made her smile as her gaze wandered down to his crooked, slightly sheepish smirk. Idly, she brushed her fingertips against his soft lips. "It's red…and not broken."

His features softened, and Jason watched Elizabeth's eyes darken when he lightly kissed her fingertips. "No, it's not."

Her breath hitched in her throat at his husky whisper, and those raven lashes fluttered as the enforcer drew closer. His warm, spicy masculine scent enveloped her as she awaited him, her fingers unconsciously drawing small circles on the back of his neck. Jason hesitated a scant distance from her ripe mouth, awaiting a signal of acceptance, but the second his lips first brushed against hers, Elizabeth realized she didn't _want_ to hesitate anymore. Not when it came to him.

The hand she had wrapped around his neck now tugged him down to her until their mouths met. His lips were soft and warm as they caressed hers gently, but then Jason deepened the kiss as he slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her again – hard. She mewed underneath him, her fingers now trailing a path up his back, digging into the rippling muscles.

Jason sucked in a gulp of air before dipping in once more. He kissed one corner of her mouth, then the other, and then united the path with a swipe of his tongue. The gesture surprised her, and Elizabeth's plush lips parted on a gasp. Jason took advantage of the moment and his tongue slithered in to the warm cavern of her mouth, tasting the sweet recesses as she opened up to him like a flower blossoming under the first rays of the sun.

She was soft and willing, yielding to him without a second thought as he plundered her mouth. Her small hands framed his face, the long fingers fanning out against his jaw as she used her gentle hold to keep him from drawing away. She had spent so long denying what she felt for Jason – the emotional as well as physical magnetism that drew her to him over the years – and she felt nothing but tremendous relief at finally being able to give in to what she wanted.

His large hand found her waist, becoming familiar with her gentle curves and silky skin that he had gone without for so long – too long. She whimpered against his mouth and shifted restlessly under him as his calloused fingers slipped under the soft cotton of her pale pink camisole to her heated skin underneath.

Jason's lips left her mouth, eliciting some protest on the brunette's part, and traveled elsewhere. He nipped at her earlobe before kissing his way down her jaw to the column of her throat and then back up to the other side. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, and the brunette succeeded in bringing his attention back to her mouth.

The enforcer let out a groan when her nails scraped his scalp, and the white sheets slipped down slightly as he pushed himself on his elbows, his muscles rippling as he shifted their bodies. Once Elizabeth was settled down against the mattress, he dipped down for her once more and swallowed her sultry moan eagerly.

Neither of them heard the knock on the door, or the click of it being opened until it was too late, and a shocked Robert Scorpio exclaimed in surprise when he walked in on the couple that he assumed would be ready to go by now – just not in _that_ manner.

"For God's sake, Morgan, what the bloody hell do you think you're doing!"


	23. 23

**Note: **Yeah, yeah, I get it, Robert sucks. Leave my man alone. :p Do enjoy this next chapter, though. It was hard, but very satisfying to me as a writer. I'm interested, of course, in hearing your thoughts on it as well.

* * *

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 23**

As soon as she turned off the shower, she heard their voices. They carried in through the little slit where the door didn't quite meet the polished linoleum, the words hanging thickly in the vapor. Elizabeth sighed, reaching for her towel, as their argument found her in the warm, encompassing haze.

She should have paid more attention to Robert's text message and gotten out of bed as soon as he told her he was getting ready. But getting out of bed just seemed like such an…_unattractive_ option. Especially since she happened to be sharing hers with a _very _attractive man. Part of her had hoped, apparently, that she could somehow make the moment last forever. But then, of course, reality had burst in upon her in the form of a very shocked detective who walked in on probably the dead _last_ thing he had hoped to see.

They were going at it outside. She could hear them as she toweled off, languidly rubbing away the trails and beads of water before slinging the wet towel on the rung. She was in no hurry to get outside and face them, so Elizabeth simply took her time changing into her blue jeans and t-shirt.

"-should have known what you were up to. You never learn, do you, Morgan?"

Robert was irritated – and that was putting it mildly. But then again, Jason wasn't exactly taking this one lying down, either. She swept her damp locks away as they clung reluctantly to her forehead, combing through the slick tresses with her fingers. He was telling Robert that what he had…walked in on…was none of his concern and he was pushing his luck as it was.

Ruefully, she shook her head as she worked on the clasp of her stubborn bra, wondering why she hadn't simply bought the ones that snapped in the front. Robert was _definitely_ not going to let some 'wet-behind-the-ears pup' like Jason tell him that he was overstepping boundaries. And sure enough, the detective was laying into the enforcer at that very moment.

"You just can't figure out what the hell it is that you want, can you, Morgan? First, you show up like a caveman, ready to drag her away by the hair because she dared to act on her own outside of your influence. She made it perfectly clear that she didn't care for your approval and told you exactly what to do with it. And you've been trying to seduce her back to your way of thinking ever since then – trying to get her to be a good little trained seal since!"

The brunette rolled her eyes. It was mildly amusing to hear those two go at it – that is, so long as she stayed a safe distance away. They were a good match, she mused, the two stubborn men that saw fit to argue over her in the adjoining room. In fact, Robert and Jason were more alike than either side would have liked to admit, and she certainly wouldn't be the one to point out the similarities. Instead, she'd just go out there once they were done swinging those things around.

"You have no right to tell her what to do or what not to do!" she heard Jason respond hotly. Poor guy. He had definitely not been expecting the Homicidal Father routine this early in the morning. A smirk made her lips twitch as she thought again about what the enforcer most likely _had_ been expecting since their lips first met. Yeah, that wouldn't have happened anyway, but she wasn't about to spoil his hopes. "She gets to see who she wants to see and you don't get to tell her not to. She gets to live her own life!"

She heard Robert laugh – that deep, dry laughter of his that seemed to issue forth directly from his gut and emanate throughout his frame, each rusty note crafted to make the hearer feel even more foolish and contemptible. "Oh, that's rich coming from you, Jason – _rich_! Neither you nor Corinthos know how to treat your women – you need them to be subservient and quiet above all else. You don't _love_ them, you _destroy_ them! Just like you destroyed my daughter!"

Elizabeth sucked in a deep breath, freezing for a moment before remembering to tug down the hem of her soft t-shirt. She knew that the argument would turn to Robin before long – she was the one person that tied the two of them together. This was about to get _really_ ugly _really _fast.

"-And I will not stand by and let you destroy Elizabeth just like you destroyed Robin!"

"What about you?" Jason's voice was deadly calm outside the door, and that never meant good things to follow. Elizabeth let out a slow breath, preparing herself to finally emerge from the washroom and break up the argument if it got out of hand…which it would

"You let your daughter think you were gone – dead. Twelve years, Robert." The disdain in the enforcer's voice was clear; there was much to be said about Jason Morgan, but his views on family and loyalty were clear to anyone that spent two minutes with the man. "Twelve years. She spoke at your funeral – yours and Anna's. She moved in under her uncle's roof. She found out that she had HIV. Stone died. Her family fell apart. She moved halfway across the world. And you weren't there for any of it. At least I-"

"I _hate_ you for what you did to her!"

A father's impassioned outburst was countered with the protective outrage of a former lover. "I hate you for the same reason."

The door opened swiftly, letting in a gust of cool, dry air, and Elizabeth quickly stepped out. Her damp hair clung to the back of her neck and the moist soles of her bare feet picked up fragments of lint as she strode decidedly across the carpet and immediately insinuated herself between the two men before they came to blows.

"That's enough." Her voice was quiet, gentle, as she placed one hand on Jason's chest and the other on Robert's forearm. Both men were trembling with quiet rage, refusing to back down, and it took some effort on her part to get them to break their rigid stance and separate. "Look, can we just stop?"

A muscle in Jason's jaw ticked as he stared Robert down, icy cerulean locked with frosty topaz. The large vein in the detective's forehead was throbbing, and his hands were curled into fists as Elizabeth gently slipped her hand in the crook of his elbow. With a lingering parting glance at Jason, she tugged on the older man's arm and led him to the door, taking him outside.

Taking care to shut the door almost all the way, she pulled Robert along until they stood outside his rented room, and it was only then that Elizabeth removed her hand from his arm. To say that she felt awkward about the situation was an understatement. This wasn't about Robert walking in on a particularly private moment; it was all about a father seeing the man that had wronged his daughter perpetuate that wrong on another. She understood his feelings for Jason – even sympathized slightly. But there was so much that Robert didn't know; there was so much he wouldn't _allow_ himself to know.

Her lips curved in a weak sliver of a half-smile, but Robert's features remained hardened and stoic. "No one could say that he didn't love her, you know."

The detective slipped his hands into his pocket, twisting his torso toward the bustling streets that lay beyond the landing where they stood. This wasn't what he wanted to hear, but she felt nonetheless that it was something he _needed_ to hear.

"I'm not here to tell you that he's a good man," she tried again, softly, her liquid eyes searching his stony averted ones. "I'm not here to tell you that you're wrong and that he has a heart of gold. I'm just telling you, Robert, with the most sincerity I can offer up…that Jason loved Robin."

She saw him swallow, but the detective offered no words. "It was obvious to anyone that saw them together. It was no secret that there were lots of people in town that didn't approve…you just have to ask your brother to know how bad it was. But _no one_ could say that Jason didn't love her."

A cool breeze swept by, running through her drying locks and making the wavy tresses flutter gaily. Robert turned to face her, his eyes sweeping over her face before locking with hers, feeling the weight of the sincerity in her gaze. Still, he said nothing.

She was wringing her hands together as she always did when she was nervous or defensive…or having a hard time putting her thoughts into words. Love wasn't something she felt she expressed very well. "She knew what she was getting into, I think, when she began seeing him. Women always have some idea, I think."

He squared his jaw, his cool gaze darting to the fleecy clouds that skirted by before meeting hers again.

"She was told that she was making a mistake…he was told the same thing." Elizabeth lifted one shoulder, a gesture helpless and fatalistic. "But who can really stop these things?" She watched as he reached out, gripping the handrail with deliberate and exaggerated concentration, displacing his attention from her words and the past to the movement of his fingers wrapping around the cold, biting metal.

"It was what it was," the brunette said softly, her own sapphire orbs falling on his tight grip on the rail. She missed the way the agent's pale blue eyes swung to her face, watching her. "They were what they were. Things happened, Robbie – things always do. But one thing remained: that Jason loved Robin with everything he was."

Her eyes lifted to his, soft and bright, and Robert swallowed roughly past a lump in his throat when her lips curled into a tremulous smile. "And doesn't every woman, no matter what happens, deserve to be loved like that?"

* * *

He had cooled down considerably since she had left, but the tension in the room hit Elizabeth the second she stepped back into the room she shared with Jason. Robert had already left for his meeting with Dr. Wilde – Elizabeth had told him that it would be better if he went alone, and after some resistance, the agent had agreed and left her to return to her roommate. The enforcer looked over at her from under hooded eyes and prowled around the edge of the massive bed, his hands stuffed into the pocket of his worn jeans.

Elizabeth let out a prolonged sigh, running her hands through her slightly damp hair as she lingered by the door, trying to find the right words to begin. But she wasn't that good with the 'right words'; she wasn't fully convinced that the 'right words' existed. So she settled on the first ones that came to mind. "We need to talk…about everything."

He didn't appear overly eager to do so, but she could see the agreement in the slightly slumped set of his broad shoulders as Jason wearily closed part of the distance between them. She let her arms swing forward from her sides, the palms meeting in a light clap as she hesitantly crept closer to him as well.

Jason looked away, his gaze absently lingering on the bed that had already been made – the pillows fluffed and set, the sheets pulled taut, the comforter thrown over it all. Elizabeth watched, nipping at her lower lip, as he scratched the back of his head before wrapping his hand around the nape of his neck.

"I'm sorry for not finding a better way during…Sonny's death."

She offered him a Katherine Hepburn smile, rolling her eyes slightly as she met him in front of the massive bed. "That's not important anymore, Jason."

His clear crystal eyes clouded, laced with mild confusion and anxiety. Jason was getting restless from the uncertainty and precariousness of their on-again, off-again relationship, and she didn't blame him. It would have been cruel of her to further evade him with veiled replies and mixed signals.

"I accept what you did," she told him softly, slipping her fingers into her back pockets. "I mean, I accept that it _happened_, obviously, and that there's nothing either of us can do now or ever to change it. You said…you said in Mexico that you wanted to fix it, and I didn't really give you a chance, and I'm sorry about that, too."

He scratched his jaw, his nails raking over the dark golden stubble there. "You were angry."

It was as simple as that, and she nodded once. "I was."

"I didn't mean to make you that angry, Elizabeth."

A jolt of electricity ran through his arm when she smiled softly and dropped her hand on top of his, a gesture of reassurance that came so naturally from her. "I know that, Jason. I don't know why…yeah, I do." She cleared her throat, her hand lingering near her collarbone. "I was as mad as I was because…because after everything that had happened to us and with us, I thought you were treating me like a child. And that you were being a coward about it."

He blinked, and she rushed on. "And you were _never_ a coward – not as long as I've known you. But running out of the penthouse and only coming home when you knew I was asleep…just so you wouldn't have to answer my questions or talk to me…yeah, I thought you were being a coward. And it made me mad because…because obviously, there was something wrong with me that you had to do that, and it was the _first_ time you ever made me feel like there was something wrong with me."

"Elizabeth, there was never anything-"

She held up her hand, letting it drop back onto his when he closed his mouth. If she didn't get this out in one fell swoop, she'd simply keep it bottled up inside. "I took it personally, Jason, and in retrospect…after listening to what you've said over the past week or so…I get that I shouldn't have. Because it wasn't."

"It wasn't," he agreed quietly, his intense eyes emphasizing each word.

"I don't like getting caught up in these little things," she admitted, studying the contrast of her pale hand on his rough, tanned one and effectively evading his gaze. "I don't like obsessing over things like this and not being able to move on. I really don't because…Jason, I _want_ to move on."

He licked his lips, recognizing the words he had been so anxiously waiting to hear, but Elizabeth continued before he could get a word in to let her know that he wanted the same thing.

"This is going to sound like a Hallmark movie, but…life is too short for this. It's too short." She chuckled lightly, sweeping her bangs out of her face. "You get that real quick when you spend some time with Luke and his family…life's just too short. If he spent this much time obsessing over things…well, he'd be dead. So I guess that's not a great example, but…you know what I mean."

Her rambling made the corner of his mouth hook up, and Jason held on to her hand when she tried to lightly and casually pull it back.

The resistance on his part caused her sapphire orbs to fly up to meet his cerulean ones, and the intensity that shone through rendered her speechless for a moment. But then the words came tumbling out, falling from her lips one after another, pulled straight from her heart.

"Jason…you're too important to me. I get that it might not be safe or smart to feel that way about you…but you're too important. The things you've shown me, the things you've taught me…" Her eyes were bright and wet now, searching his. "No one could ever take your place, Jason. And that's why…that's why, no matter what happens, I will _always_ want us to be friends."

He stopped for a second, blinking once then twice, certain that he had heard her wrong. No, no – the conversation could _not_ be going there. They were supposed to tell each other that they both screwed up but wanted to try again. She wasn't supposed to talk about being _friends_ – for Christ's sake, they'd tried that and failed miserably because their animalistic attraction was too damn hard to ignore. There was no way he'd be able to go back to that.

"I'll always want that, Jason," she repeated, taking his other hand and squeezing firmly. "I'd hate it if this happened again."

"Elizabeth-"

"I don't want us to fall apart again like we did this time. It hurts too much, Jason, because I might get angry, but I'd never want to lose you like that." Her voice was cracking, no matter how she tried to compose herself, and the brunette's grip on his hands tightened. "I don't want walls between us. I don't want us to have to ignore each other at Kelly's. I don't want to stay away from Vista Point because I think you'll be there and it'll be too hard to see you."

"Elizabeth-"

"I don't _want_ to pull away when you try to kiss me on the cheek!"

Jason swore and used her hold on his hands as leverage, pulling the brunette hard into himself. She crashed against the hard plane of his chest as he wrapped his arms tightly around her and rested his chin on top of her soft, silky tresses.

Elizabeth let out a slow, ragged breath against his t-shirt, mortified with herself for immediately appearing so weak but unable to push herself away. "I always want to be friends."

"I don't."

This time, _she_ was certain that she had heard _him_ wrong. But when Elizabeth blinked up at Jason, moisture clinging to her thick raven lashes, he only stared honestly back at her.

"I want more, Elizabeth."

It was the first time he'd ever told her anything like that. But it was true – there was no way he'd be able to go back to a simple friendship with her. Not when he had been so close to getting exactly what he wanted only to mess up. Not when he had been so close.

Her arms came to wrap gently around his waist. "But, Jason…we need to be realistic."

Already, he knew he hated that word.

"We're stuck in the same cycle," she continued softly, her full lips settling into a soft pout as her sharp eyes grew distant. "We keep doing the same thing over and over again and we won't change or break free." His palm was moving in soft circles over her lower back through the thin t-shirt she wore, making it increasingly difficult to remain rational. "You and me, Jason…we work best when we're alone."

There wasn't a trace of amusement in his eyes when he spoke – in fact, she was fairly certain she saw a brief flicker of sadness. "We _are_ alone."

Surprisingly enough, his meaning was unquestionably clear to her at that moment. "We're haunted," she agreed softly. "We keep repeating past behavior. I don't want to get hurt again, Jason…and I don't ever want to hurt _you_ again."

"I know," he murmured, rocking them ever so softly as they stood twined together in the still, silent room. "I don't ever want you in danger, and I don't know how I'll keep myself from instinctively pushing you away when things get bad. But, Elizabeth, that's not a good enough reason to let this go. That's not a good enough reason to not fight for this."

Her lips twisted downward and he saw a barrage of tears flood her expressive eyes. "Why is it only worth fighting for _now_? Why wasn't it important enough before – the second I found out about the whole thing? Why wasn't I important enough _then_?"

She hated herself for bursting into tears – hated herself more when Jason's arms wrapped fiercely around her and he pressed his cheek hard against her soft hair. "You _were_ important enough to fight for," he insisted severely, his fingers biting into her sides. "…But you were also important enough to be set free."

She sniffled quietly, reigning in her runaway tears. "Last time I checked, you didn't get to decide that for other people."

"…Not unless I want them safe, no."

With a slight huff, she smacked her palms mutely against his chest. "And we're right back where we started, Jason. You want to lock me up in a bullet-proof penthouse like…like…_Carly_ and I want to live my life."

He smirked at the disgust evident in her voice and tipped his chin to look down at her, amusement sparkling in his unearthly blue orbs. "Is that so bad?" he asked softly, in the same gruff, husky voice that always made her weak in the knees. His fingertips skimmed her jaw, the rough pads lingering on the petal-soft skin. "To be protected?"

The corner of her mouth curled upward. "No," she admitted in a small, only slightly breathless voice. "…I kind of _like_ it when…when you protect me." His forehead came to rest against hers, and Elizabeth allowed herself to close her eyes for a brief moment of reprieve before gripping his bulging forearm again. "But, Jason, that _can't _be what defines us."

He let out a gruff sigh and looked directly into her resolute sapphire eyes, remaining quiet as she spoke. "I meant what I said – I want to be with you, Jason, but I can't sacrifice myself _or_ you to do that."

"I'd never ask you to-"

"I know you wouldn't," she interrupted, placing her fingertips on his lips for the second time that morning and allowing a small twinge of satisfaction when his eyes darkened just a shade. "But you _did_, Jason, and that makes me question both of us. And…I can't go back to that."

He pursed his lips together and the soft pads of her fingers brushed over his stubble. "That sounds like how _I _felt a year ago."

His quiet admission rocked her, and Elizabeth couldn't have formed a word if she had tried.

"I felt…empty watching you walk away." It was something he'd never said aloud; never allowed himself to say aloud. "And I left Port Charles because I wanted to get rid of that feeling. I wanted to stop being empty." He watched the tears pool in her eyes and shook his head gently, lifting the pad of his thumb to skim the liquid emotion away.

"I'm not saying this to make you feel guilty," he told her softly. "I just want you to know. I didn't have anything but the business then – no dreams, no light. Nothing. And Elizabeth, _I_ can't go back to _that_. Not when I was so close to getting everything I wanted – not when I was so close to getting _you_."

This time, Jason did nothing to stop the tears that spilled past her lashes and coursed slick trails down her porcelain cheeks. He simply pulled Elizabeth closer, inhaling her light scent of soap and lilacs, and the corner of his mouth hesitantly quirked up.

"You can strap a knife on under your skirt and sneak into the house of a warlord to fight the Cassidines," he whispered, his eyes glowing as he leaned closer. "Can you be brave enough to give this another shot?"

She looked up at him openly, unashamed of her tears. Every single part of her body felt numb; movement was out of the question. And that was why her heart leapt into her throat when he leaned closer still with unmistakable intent, because it was exactly what she yearned for. His warm lips were a scant distance from hers when a perceptible tremor ran through her, causing him to hesitate momentarily. But one look into her deep eyes gave him the answer he was looking for, and Jason didn't waste any more time.

Leaning down, he captured her lips with his own. The kiss was one-sided at first – he claimed her mouth, his firm lips moving to lead her to greater aggression. When her hand wrapped around his neck and she speared her fingers through his thick golden hair, however, Jason knew he had won.

He slanted his mouth over hers, tasting the salt of her tears, and let out a murmur of appreciation and relief when she opened her mouth to him. His strong arms remained wrapped around her waist as he claimed the sweet recesses of her mouth and heart, anchoring her to him firmly with the unspoken promise of never letting her go.


	24. 24

**Note: **You guys are going to HATE me for this next turn of events. But I'm hoping that the bang-up adventure to follow will smooth things over a bit. ;) I mean, Liason can't be all rainbows and butterflies for more than a split-second, right? Certainly not when I've got super spy Robert Xavier Scorpio lingering around – I've got to utilize him and Luke properly for my first and last, best ever, full-fledged spy caper! Whee! Enjoy the ride, because I've been going NUTS just tossing it around in my own head. Time to share!

Also, Solo Ensemble recently reached 800 members and there has been an SE Exclusive one-parter posted at the site, entitled Possession, if anyone is interested.

* * *

**The Battle of Who Could Care Less – 24**

Elizabeth lifted her head from Jason's chest, which she was currently using as a pillow, and looked around for her phone when she heard it vibrate. She and Jason had done nothing but lounge around in the hotel room since their confrontation that morning, and she was perfectly content at the moment. She couldn't remember the last time she had been able to say that.

Jason let out a sigh, stroking her back languidly as she skimmed the text message, then laughed. "It's Robbie. He says that he's back and from now on, if we want to see him, _we_ have to go to _his_ room."

"Thank God," the enforcer muttered, his fingertips skimming her side as he attempted to pull her down to him again. The past few hours had been wonderful compared to the past week and a half. It would have been better had he and Elizabeth decided to continue what they were up to this morning before Robert barged in, but he knew better than to push his luck. He had just told her this morning how he really felt for her, and once things calmed down and they were back in Port Charles, he'd _show_ her.

"Well, come on," Elizabeth said, pushing herself up into a sitting position and staring down at him. "Aren't you going to go?"

He stared up at her, his features entirely bland, and the brunette rolled her eyes.

"Oh, come on, Jason," she huffed, grabbing his hand and struggling to pull him up. The enforcer let out a defeated sigh and finally got up, fixing his slightly rumpled shirt as she led him to the door and outside to Robert's room.

They found him standing by the window, his arms crossed and his brows furrowed as he stared unseeingly out at the town. Elizabeth glanced at Jason who didn't appear too concerned about the agent, then slowly made her way over to him.

"Robbie? What happened? Anything?"

The detective shook his head, finally breaking his stance enough to run his fingers through his pale golden hair. "Nothing. Faolan's been unable to crack the code. Pentagruel sent word that he'd be arriving tomorrow morning, a bit ahead of schedule, and maybe then…"

"They'll figure it out, right?" Elizabeth tried to reassure him, settling her small hand on his forearm. "The two most brilliant minds in cryptography and art history – they'll figure it out."

Robert turned toward the young couple and pushed his way past them to the bed. He saw Jason, who lingered nonchalantly against the closed door, but looked right through him, making his way over to the mattress. Stooping, he pushed up the mattress and reached underneath for the necklace.

Elizabeth nibbled her lip as she watched him unwrap it carefully, and Robert slowly made his way back to her. He ran his thumbs absently over the bumps on the back that formed the script, and looked out the window once more.

"Emmanuel led the coup this morning."

The brunette pursed her lips and even Jason straightened, but neither one said anything.

"I don't have any information beyond that," Robert continued quietly. "Just that the coup was initiated at dawn. I managed to get word to Luke and Lucky to see how they were faring. They said that things were quiet in Port Charles and they knew what to do should a threat be posed."

He let out a slow sigh and turned the necklace over in his palm, tracing his finger over the massive gemstone that glittered wickedly in the weak sunlight. The blood-colored jewel was at the heart of all of this, and it felt heavier in his hand than it ever had before. "Helena knows by now that her mission is endangered – she must. And she'll figure out before long that the artifact that she believed to be stolen from her is no longer in the hands of Don Buenaventura."

His hand closed around the necklace, forming a tight fist, and Elizabeth swallowed roughly as her solemn sapphire eyes met Jason's determined cerulean ones. "The fun's over, doll – she'll be coming after us."

The brunette nodded absently, wrapping her arms around her middle, and missed the look that passed between Robert and Jason. "We don't have much time left now, do we?"

It wasn't a question, though she had phrased it as such, but Robert answered it as one. "Not at all. I don't want either of you walking alone anywhere anymore – Morgan, I know you've hit the town yesterday and the day before that, but that can't happen anymore. You carry your weapon with you at all times, locked and locked. Is that clear?"

The enforcer nodded, all business at the moment, and Robert wrapped up the necklace in the handkerchief as if he suddenly couldn't stand the sight of it. "Elizabeth…I had hoped that I could do without giving you this for a while, especially since Morgan decided to come along, but I'm afraid I can't put it off any longer."

"What is it, Robbie?" she asked curiously, watching as he secured the necklace under the mattress once more before reaching for his bag.

Jason, too, was watching the older man suspiciously and his cerulean eyes instantly turned to granite when he saw what Robert had withdrawn.

"This…is the newest revolver from Samson & Wesson," the detective explained simply, holding the silver weapon in his hand. He hefted it easily, his fingers lingering admiringly over the beavertail tread on the butt before gliding up the barrel. "It's the same kind I use, only a different model. The best of the line, Elizabeth. And it's yours."

Jason's hands curled into fists as he watched the brunette reach out to accept the weapon. She withdrew her hand once – slightly – then appeared to steel herself and took the gun from Robert's extended hand. A muscle in his jaw ticked as he watched her finger slip into the trigger slot, the others wrapping around the butt as she cradled the barrel with her other hand like a pro.

"You remember everything I showed you in Calvillo, don't you?" Robert asked in a low, gruff voice, his eyes trained seriously on Elizabeth as she familiarized herself with the weapon. Jason frowned at the question; he hadn't known that Robert and Luke had taught Elizabeth about firearms.

The young woman was nodding absently as she took the cartridge from Robert and expertly jammed it into place. "Yeah, I do. I was just…I was just hoping I wouldn't have to actually use one of these myself."

"We were all hoping that, doll," Robert laughed humorlessly, still watching her cautiously. "I do believe that Morgan can keep you safe…but I'm not ready to take any chances. Especially since you _have_ been taught how to properly defend yourself."

"It's bigger than the one Jason gave me," she murmured, almost to herself. "But not too much bigger. A little heavier, but I feel like I can handle it."

"I didn't want you to use anything smaller," the detective informed her, his hands settling on his narrow hips. "The recoil would have been a bit much for you to handle. As it is, it shouldn't be too bad. Remember to take it in the shoulder, like I taught you."

Jason watched on, silent and dumbfounded but quickly beginning to get over it, as the petite brunette nodded and easily hefted the weapon in one hand before switching it to the other, getting used to the weight of it in her hand. It was almost like an out-of-body experience, to see the young woman handling a weapon and tucking it into the band of her fitted black jeans. And even though he didn't like it…he was able to take some comfort in the fact that Robert didn't either. But the detective believed that the situation called for it, and though Jason doubted that Helena would be able to find them any time soon, both Robert and Elizabeth clearly did and he had to admit rather begrudgingly that they knew the scope of the Cassidine matriarch far better than he did.

The brunette's somber blue eyes lifted to Robert's, and she swallowed and looked over at Jason as he drew closer before turning back to her newest mentor. "And now…we wait?"

A thin, cold smile pulled at the agent's lips. "Now…we play the game as best we can, Elizabeth."

* * *

They had food stored in the small refrigerators in their rooms, and so none of them had to leave that night in order to find dinner. Robert stayed in his room and Jason and Elizabeth stayed in theirs, communicating only through the agent and the enforcer's untraceable cellular phones.

Dinner was a strained, uncomfortable event hijacked by thoughts of the scorned Cassidine Queen. Jason, who wasn't all too familiar with the story of the blood feud between the Cassidines and the Spencers, sat and listened patiently to Elizabeth as she related the story from the very beginning.

The young woman was a fount of knowledge, he soon discovered, and the enforcer could hardly believe the ease and nonchalance with which she related the horrific stories. He learned of how Robert and Luke first met and worked together to stop Helena from freezing the entire world – how such a thing was even possible, he still didn't comprehend, but he thought it better not to interrupt Elizabeth and ask her to go through that part again.

She skimmed over the part where Stavros kidnapped Laura and held her against her will, and the Spencer woman's alliance with his younger brother Stefan. Jason saw that it made her uncomfortable to relate the account and didn't push her, knowing that it wasn't of immediate pertinence. Elizabeth told him again how the truth had finally come out about Nikolas, and Laura's deception. Jason remembered all of that playing out, but was grateful for a more personal account than the gossip he heard in town. When she had finished, he felt as if he had a somewhat better understanding of what Robert and the Spencers felt they were up against, even if it all still sounded a bit foreign to him.

That night, he and Elizabeth didn't share in any of their rituals before bed. She simply crawled across the bed and collapsed into his arms, her normally lithe body feeling much more delicate and fragile than it usually did to him.

And Jason had just held her as the town of Oxford hummed outside their windows, beyond the tightly drawn blinds and the bolted and reinforced door. His large hand skimmed a slow, steady, and perfectly rhythmic path up and down her back, sometimes slipping under her soft cotton top. Her dewy breath fanned out against his bare chest as she cuddled closer, seeking his warmth.

Neither one was able to fall asleep for hours, at the very least. The contentment and peace that had enveloped them like a blanket the last time they had shared this bed was gone, having given way to anxiety and the sense of vulnerability to impending doom. It was clear to him that Elizabeth had no illusions about the Cassidines. Unlike him, she had seen them at their worst and she knew what to expect, but at the same time, couldn't imagine what to expect.

And perhaps that was why this was so much worse for her: she had heard the stories and lived through the danger, and now that it was upon her once again, she knew nothing of it. He, on the other hand, had never gone up against the Cassidines before and wasn't as panicked by not knowing how the battle would be fought. He was simply approaching it in the same manner that he approached all of the conflicts in his life: he was as prepared as he could be and as confident in his own abilities as he realistically could be. He had no way of knowing what would happen, and therefore had no real way of fearing it.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, didn't fear anything as much as she feared the unknown. She wasn't panicking, but she was most definitely anxious and on edge, especially after seeing Robert's uncharacteristic display of trepidation. Her heart was beating rapidly against his bare chest, and Jason knew without asking that she was reliving her own encounter with Helena and imagining all the possible horrors the old woman had in store for the Spencers and their allies.

His lips found her crown and he pressed a gentle kiss there, the strokes of his hand against her back becoming firmer as he pulled her even closer. She accepted his attempt at reassurance and buried her face in his neck, simply letting him hold her until the anxiety passed and she was able to slip into an uneasy slumber.

* * *

They awoke the next morning in the same position as they had fallen asleep. Jason was already wide awake and staring at the tightly drawn blinds, his ears craned to pick up the slightest vibration of his phone. Elizabeth stirred slowly, relinquishing the warm haze of her somewhat fitful slumber and rubbed her eyes.

She pressed a kiss to Jason's chest and sighed when his grip on her waist tightened. He kissed her forehead before reluctantly untangling himself from her supple limbs and slipped out of bed toward the bathroom. When he returned, having showered and brushed his teeth, he found her talking to Robert on his cell phone in a hushed voice.

When they finally hung up, Elizabeth explained that Pentagruel from Egypt would be arriving in the hour and that her Dr. Wilde had been working on the necklace all night with nothing to show for it. When Robert called him back in ten minutes, the detective was happy to learn that both the enforcer and the young woman were showered and dressed and ready to head out to the campus again.

The men exercised extreme caution as they caught the bus to Oxford university again, and the group did not take the time to leisurely stroll down the picturesque walkways like they had before. They made it to Faolan's office in record time and received a note directing them to the back entrance of the university's research facility that the Bureau had leased.

Breakfast and Dr. Wilde were waiting for them there, and the threesome made quick work of eating a modest meal as they waited for Pentagruel to join them. Dr. Wilde was still hard at work an hour later when Robert's younger colleague was finally escorted into the facility. After introductions, the men had set to work on the artifact immediately.

There wasn't much for the threesome to do, but remaining at the facility was much safer than staying in their hotel rooms. Robert and Jason milled around as Elizabeth lingered close to the two art historians who would often ask her various questions about the Cassidine's lineage and geographic ownership. She answered the best she could, hoping that some of the information she provided about their Russian ancestry and roots in Greece would be helpful in deciphering the clues on the back of the necklace.

Hours passed, and still neither man had been able to come up with anything. Dr. Wilde was bleary-eyed but refused to give up, and Robert and Pentagruel – whose real name turned out to be a somewhat disappointing and very common 'Mark' – had to physically escort him to another room to rest. Mark was still fresh from his trip and was able to put in several straight hours analyzing the cast, and was still hard at work when Robert finally announced that it was time to return.

Elizabeth remained close to the agent and Jason on their way back to their hotel, her own weapon engaged at her side with the safety off on the chance that they should run into trouble. It was the second day of the coup – if the coup was still in effect – and she was sure it was doubly dangerous for them now to be out in the open where they could be spotted. They were quite conspicuous as it was – Helena would instantly recognize snapshots of a renowned spy that had thwarted her in the past, her nemesis' almost-daughter, and a mobster from their sleepy little town – but there was nothing they could do about that.

Both Jason and Robert entered their rooms with their weapons drawn, immediately on the lookout for intruders or any sign of a staged intrusion. When everything seemed to be in order, they all turned in after making sure to lock their doors tightly. Elizabeth was the first to use the bathroom and as soon as she returned from a long, hot shower, Jason's cell phone rang.

Almost certain that it was Robert calling to check in before they retired, Jason was mildly surprised when he picked up the slim silver device.

"Morgan."

"_Jason, it's me."_

He glanced at Elizabeth who appeared at his side, and the brunette instantly noticed the flicker of worry that ran through his cerulean orbs. "Sonny? What's going on?"

"_I need you to come back, Jason – now."_

A moment of stunned silence followed as Jason and Elizabeth simply stared at each other. "Sonny-"

"_I can't tell you anything over the phone, but you need to come back. Now. It's real bad, Jason."_

"You can't-"

"_I can't do it on my own, Jason, no. You have to get back immediately."_

Sonny hung up abruptly, leaving the enforcer to stare at his phone, bewildered. Finally, Elizabeth broke the silence.

"You should go," she whispered, settling a hand on his arm and taking the phone from him. "It sounded like-"

"Elizabeth-"

"It sounded like it was really important," she finished firmly, her solemn eyes looking directly into his. "Like it was really bad. We need to talk to Robbie about this."

He waited as she sent a text message to the detective in the next room, and was able to tick off forty seconds before Robert was outside their door. They let him in immediately and secured the door shut behind him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his pale blue eyes darting back and forth between the enforcer and the reticent brunette.

Jason sighed, dragging a hand through his dark spikes. There wasn't much he could tell Robert about the situation, but he had to offer up some form of explanation. "I have to get back to Port Charles. Tonight. Now."

The detective stared at him for a long moment, his features conveying nothing. "Now."

Jason nodded. "Now."

Robert sighed heavily, his hands once again falling to his lean hips. "How bad is it?"

The enforcer looked beyond his shoulder, his voice gruff. "It sounded pretty bad. Sonny wouldn't have called unless it was his last option."

The older man nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "You know, I believe that." He licked his lips, rubbing his hands together jerkily. "Okay, then, that settles it. You're going. We'll need to make arrangements for you immediately. I can afford to send you back on the Bureau's jet – it's at the airfield at the moment and is due to fly to Los Angeles in the early hours of the morning. It won't take much to get them to take on a passenger and drop him off in New York."

Jason nodded, his cerulean eyes landing on a very quiet Elizabeth. "What about…what are you going to do?"

"I'll be just fine, Morgan," Robert scoffed. "The real question is what _Elizabeth _is going to do."

She blinked at the two men. "Hm?"

"Are you going to return to Port Charles with Jason," Robert started gently, motioning to the enforcer, "or are you going to stay with me?"

The brunette swallowed, her eyes moving back and forth between the two men. "I…I don't know. What should I do?"

Jason and Robert sighed in unison, and the detective was the first to speak. "It all depends on where you'll be in more danger – and the sort of danger. Personally, I think you should stay with me."

The mobster looked at him sharply. "And be a target for Helena?"

"Let me put it this way, Morgan," Robert started, slicing a hand through the air and silencing the younger man's protest. "I'm going to be better able to keep her safe than you."

Elizabeth knew that Jason was not about to let him get away with that, but was surprised when the enforcer said nothing and continued to listen to the older man.

"You'll have to run home lickety-split and report to your boss," Robert said, not turning his words into an insult as he easily could have. "You'll be focused on keeping yourself and Corinthos and your men alive while holding on to an empire that spans the greater Tri-State area, as well as Puerto Rico, as well as other interests abroad."

When Jason quirked a brow at him, the aging detective nodded gravely. "Oh, yes, Morgan – we know." He cleared his throat, absently pulling on his collar. "I, on the other hand, will be concentrating on only two things: Elizabeth and myself. She's going to be a target in either case – but I will have less things on fire in front of me and will be able to devote more of my efforts toward saving both our skins should the situation call for it. I think she should stay with me. Elizabeth?"

She gulped and looked at Jason, who was processing what Robert had said and almost looked as if he might be in agreement. "I…okay. Okay, I'll stay with you."

"Good," Robert nodded, flipping open his cell phone. "I'll make the arrangements right now."

He retreated over to the windows to place the call to the pilots, leaving Jason alone with Elizabeth. He could tell she was worried, and all he could think to do was wrap his arm around her waist and pull her into him. She crashed against his chest with a choked murmur and he wrapped his arms around her. He didn't like this at all, but he felt Robert was right.

There was no way he could stay in England – not if Sonny, Carly and Michael were in danger. Normally, he wouldn't have dreamt of leaving Elizabeth and going home alone, but taking her with him would have meant putting her in the crosshairs, and he wasn't about to do that. She would be a target because of her relationship to him – whether she was actually with him or if they had broken up – and his enemies would no doubt come after her. That was why he found himself agreeing to Robert's assessment. The man was an international spy, after all – he would be able to keep himself and Elizabeth safe from Helena while Jason and Sonny worked to secure the homefront.

Her fingers fisted in his shirt and Jason gently cupped her jaw, lifting her face to his. He could see the apprehension in her expressive sapphire orbs though she tried to put up a brave face, and he simply shook his head. Her small smile faltered, but then Jason was leaning down to capture her lips with his. And in that moment, Elizabeth was able to let go of her anxiety – if only for a moment – and lose herself in his kiss and the hope that they would be fine. They would all be fine.

"Jason." Robert gruffly cleared his throat, absently playing with his cell phone. "The pilots have agreed and are preparing the plane for take-off as we speak. You'll need to catch a cab to the airport as soon as possible. I've already called one, and it should be on its way."

"Thank you, Robbie," Elizabeth spoke up on Jason's behalf as she curled up against the enforcer's side. The detective nodded and looked away, retreating to the windows to give them a moment of privacy.

With a heavy sigh, Jason kissed the brunette's forehead and then took up his empty duffel bag. With her help, he quickly loaded his clothes and accessories into the bag and was zipping it shut as Robert kept a lookout for the cab. He slung it down onto the floor and made sure his weapon was engaged before setting it on the dresser. Done with his last-minute preparations, he finally turned to Elizabeth.

She came willingly into his arms, knowing what he said without needing words to obstruct the meaning. Jason held her close for a long moment before kissing her again, slowly at first and then deepening the embrace. The brunette sighed into his mouth, accepting his tongue as it slithered past hers, and drank him in. His fingers combed through her silky hair, reassuring her as he prepared himself for their farewell, and all too soon she heard Robert clear his throat.

"Cab's here."

Elizabeth smiled bravely up at Jason, framing his face with her hands. "I'll be just fine, Jason. Be safe, okay?"

He nodded once, the conflicted look in his eyes conveying his extreme reluctance to part with her and face his own duties. "You, too."

Robert watched uneasily as Jason kissed her once more, then picked up his duffel bag. He didn't like the young man at all – no matter how Elizabeth had tried to change his mind – but he liked the circumstances of his departure even less. The men exchanged a curt nod as Jason carefully opened the door, hearing Robert call out for him to be vigilant, and with one last look at Elizabeth, Jason Morgan disappeared into the darkness.

The blinds crackled lightly as Robert inserted two fingers between the shades and parted them easily, his shifty cornflower blue eyes darting around in the darkness as he watched Jason approach the twinkling headlights of the cab. He waited, watching as the enforcer spoke with the driver, tossed his bag onto the backseat, and climbed in after it.

The agent watched them drive away, his gray brows furrowed. "…And things just got a little bit more interesting, didn't they, doll?"

He didn't hear a response from the brunette, and when he turned around to face her, Robert stopped short at the sight of her tears. The young woman averted her face quickly, brushing away the liquid emotion in hopes that the detective hadn't seen, and sniffled miserably.

Robert heaved a long sigh, and slowly shuffled forward. Her shoulders were trembling and she wouldn't look at him, but he wrapped an arm around her upper back and gently coaxed her into an awkward hug. He felt her squelch a sob as tremors ran through her petite frame, and ran a heavy hand up and down her back in small circles, not knowing what else to do.

"There, there," he found himself murmuring as he rested his chin atop her silky chestnut locks. Offering comfort – especially to young women her age – was definitely not his strong suit. After all, he had failed miserably on that account where his own daughter was concerned, and therefore had no right to hope to succeed with any other. But as Elizabeth sniffled once more, her damp cheek pressed hard right against the center of his chest, Robert found his arms tightening protectively around her as he realized for the first time that at the moment, each was all the other had.


	25. 25

**Note: **If you guys have a little faith and patience with me when it comes to telling a Liason story with Liason in fact separated for several chapters, then I think the pay-off will be quite nice and you'll be pleased with the end result. Eyes on the prize, as always – but don't forget to enjoy the ride while you're at it.

* * *

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 25**

She woke up the next morning alone in Robert's bed and was momentarily confused when she didn't find Jason's warm body next to hers. But as weariness bled away to subdued alertness, Elizabeth realized where she was. Robert was already dressed and was shaving in front of the massive mirror at the far end of the room. The sheets that he had used the previous night were folded and rested atop his pillow, and he had left both of them in the exact same spot on the floor that he had slept.

Elizabeth sighed and rubbed her temples, feeling a headache coming on. After Jason had left last night, Robert had staunchly refused to let her stay alone in the room. Instead, they had tossed her meager possessions into her canvas tote and walked back to his room. She had been asked – or commanded, rather – to take the bed while the agent slept on the floor despite her protests. Both of them were anxious and on edge, seeing as how this was the third day of the coup and they still had no idea what the necklace meant.

Wearily, she shoved off the covers and grabbed her jeans and a clean t-shirt from her bag and shuffled into the bathroom to shower. When she got out, Robert was on the phone with Dr. Wilde and motioned for her to hurry up. She went through the motions, securing her identification in her front pocket and engaging her weapon before tucking it against her side, and the agent hurried her out the door.

They went directly to the research facility leased by the Bureau on the Oxford campus, walking quickly side by side. Elizabeth ducked into the compound first, trying to ignore the rumble of her stomach. Robert followed quickly on her heels and led the way down a maze of corridors to where Mark and Faolan had staked their ground.

The two of them expected to find the art historians struggling with the necklace and their own frustrations, but they felt the shift immediately as they stepped into the office. The air was charged with energy and electricity, and the two men were huddled close together over the cast of the necklace with several open books spread out around them.

"What's going on?" Robert asked, not bothering with morning pleasantries. He ushered Elizabeth forward first and the two of them scurried over to the other agents. "Have you got something?"

"Do you know what it says, Dr. Wilde?" Elizabeth asked, her weariness giving way momentarily to excitement and hope.

"It's a mirror-image, Lizzie Love," the old man answered breathlessly as he motioned for Mark to flip to the middle of another thick book. "The script is a reflection of the original writing!"

"What?" Robert's eyes darted back and forth between Mark and Faolan as the two men studied the cast before frenetically flipping pages and transcribing nonsensical lines onto their notebooks. "How do you figure?"

"We've been at this for days," Faolan replied, momentarily looking up from the work at hand as Mark continued to write frantically. The older man was clearly excited, and even as he tried to compose himself long enough to relate the breakthrough to the two newcomers, his fingers excitedly played with the pencil he held. "It seemed hopeless – gibberish."

"It's unlike anything I've ever seen before," Mark murmured, flipping several pages of his reference book and searching the Greek letters. "_Amazing_."

"We hadn't stopped work since yesterday morning," Faolan continued, passing Elizabeth his half-finished bottle of water and a bagel that he had taken two bites out of. "And it was about three in the morning and we still hadn't come across anything. And then it was Mark who suggested putting it away for a few hours and getting some sleep."

Robert absently broke off part of the bagel Elizabeth was scarfing down and nodded along with the professor.

"He was carrying it over to the safe to seal away when we passed the windows," the old man explained excitedly. "And that was when I saw the reflection of the cast in the glass – and by God, it looked as if it could actually mean something."

"We brought it right back over here and went at it," Mark interjected, looking up from his notebook. "First, we took a few pictures and copied down the markings down in the image of their reflection. Faolan said that the structure looked like a defunct Grecian dialect used a little over a thousand years ago."

"I'm not entirely sure what it says," Faolan broke in, picking up his notebook once more and extending it forward so that Robert and Elizabeth could look at the script. "But we pulled all of my character study books and brought them back, and we're almost finished translating the words."

"It's difficult and taking this long only because the breaks between the words aren't completely clear," Mark explained as his colleague went back to work. "Once we have all the words translated, I'll have to let Faolan take over. He's more familiar with the syntax of this dialect because he's seen similar work inscribed into Greek artifacts."

"Once we get all the words translated," the man in question countered, "it will be a walk in the park to fit them together into a sensible phrase – believe you me."

Elizabeth grinned up at Robert, elated and astonished at the same time, and the agent only beamed back. "They did it, Robbie!"

"And what did I tell you, doll?" he winked, rubbing his hands together with glee. "I can't tell you of the significance of your work, gentlemen. If we can get one step ahead of Helena Cassidine…"

"Robert, think nothing of it," Faolan murmured as Mark handed him his notebook with the complete translated list of words and characters. "We're all familiar with the tactics of Helena – no doubt, she's got a cataclysmic event planned and if so, even the smallest bit of help will take you far."

"You're going to get in touch with Bunbury in Paris, aren't you?" Mark questioned, his anxious green eyes settling on the pair. "He's been chronicling her patterns for the past fifteen years and can give you the best and most solid information."

"We're heading there next," Robert informed him with a quick nod. "I've prepared for safe transportation, and with just a little luck we'll be able to get out of Oxford with little publicity."

"God speed," Mark shrugged apologetically, his lips curling into a small smirk. "I'm afraid I don't envy you one bit, Robert."

A ghost of a smile played across the agent's lips before he let out a sigh and focused once more on Faolan. With the man hard at work deciphering the appropriate word order and sentence structure, there was little for them to do. Mark pointed the two of them toward a small refrigerator, and after they had filled up on some fruit and coffee, they wound their way back to the elderly art historian to see if he had finished.

Faolan was squinting down at the paper in his hand as the group approached, his white brows furrowed as he studied it carefully. He looked up when Robert approached and held it out so the detective could read as well.

"What's it say?" Elizabeth asked eagerly, taking a big gulp of coffee and burning her tongue.

Robert frowned at the paper as the brunette quickly blew on the scalding liquid. "_How lonely sits the city that once was full of people. How like a widow she has become, she that was great among the nations_." He looked around at his colleagues, nonplussed. "What the devil is that supposed to mean?"

"Are you certain this is it, Faolan?" Mark asked, frowning down at the words.

The old professor nodded. "I checked and rechecked, and I am certain. What could the verse be referring to?"

"Read it again," Mark instructed, crossing his arms over his chest. "It sounds…oddly familiar."

"_How lonely sits the city that once was full of people. How like a widow she has become-"_ Faolan stopped when he noticed that the younger art historian was already on the move, retreating toward the state of the art laptops lined up along the far wall. "Mark?"

"-so familiar," he was muttering as he set the laptop down on the table, glancing over at the paper as Robert moved closer. "Let me check the database – hopefully, it will contain at least some reference to the line."

Elizabeth sipped her coffee anxiously, looking at Robert and her Dr. Wilde as Mark typed away. The younger man sighed and typed some more, and a few clicks later they heard him let out an exclamation of triumph.

"_How lonely sits the city that was once full of people_," he repeated proudly, tapping the LCD monitor. "That's from the Book of Lamentations – the first half of the first verse."

"Lamentations," Robert murmured, skimming over the Biblical passage as Elizabeth watched. "That entire book is about the destruction of Jerusalem, isn't it?"

Faolan was nodding, slowly at first and then with increased conviction. "Yes – lyric poetry, if I'm not mistaken. It's among the most violent and brutal pieces of writing in the entire Bible. Though the passages lack traditional statements of hope, the poems do manifest a stubborn and tenacious hold on life, which is ironic considering the content of the verse we just found. Does that help at all, Robert?"

The detective shrugged, looking over at Elizabeth who also shrugged in reply. "Your guess is as good as mine, Faolan. What would Helena need with a necklace with Biblical poetry engraved on the back?"

"Not engraved, Robbie," Elizabeth corrected quietly, moving forward and looking down at the cast that sat nearby. "It's not engraved – the script is raised from the back surface. That's got to mean something." She frowned down at the cast, tracing her fingers over the writing as the other men thought. "It would be awkward to wear – she can't want it for that reason. The bumps would feel horrible against your neck. It's not meant to be worn."

"No, it's not," Faolan agreed. "There do exist some noteworthy pieces of ancient jewelry from the same era as this Grecian dialect that we see on the back of the necklace. And the first thing you will notice about those necklaces is their distinctive style – and how that style differs drastically from the style of this one."

"How so?"

"The necklaces of that period," the other art historian cut in, "were crafted to be delicate and simple. The values of the time were focused on simplicity and a plain, geometric design."

"Not so in this case," Faolan added, pointing down to the cast. "The large jewel in the middle alone gives it away – forget the smaller ones adoring the sides. This necklace would have been much too heavy and outlandish for any respectable woman in that society to wear."

"So what does that mean?" Elizabeth asked, rolling her half-empty cup of coffee between her palms.

"The necklace was most definitely not to be worn," the elderly professor explained. "Instead, it would most likely have been found adorning the shield or armor of an ancestor. However, this speculation on my part is based on the assumption that this necklace is an original remnant of the times. Clearly, it is not."

"But we have reason to believe that it was modeled about roughly 200 years ago to look like an exact replica of the original piece," Mark took up. "The script on the back is a significant indicator of the fact. The language survived for a very short period of time, comparatively, and seeing it on the back of a piece like this is indeed extremely strange."

"Especially since it's not engraved," Elizabeth finished for him, receiving a nod. "If it's not worn, then it's used for ornamentation…which might explain the bumps on the back."

"How?"

She nibbled her lip, wondering if her idea would seem naïve or out of left field, but voiced it anyway. "What if…What if the bumps are supposed to fit into a matching plate – one that matches up with the mirror-image perfectly? Like…a puzzle or a key?"

Robert shared a long look with Faolan as the two men contemplated what the young woman had said. Finally, the elderly professor broke the silence. "Lizzie Love, I wouldn't rule that possibility out. At this point, it does seem plausible. But we have less than nothing to go on in the first place…"

"If it _is_ a key…" Robert murmured, running his finger over the biblical verse. "…then it begs the question, just what does Helena have locked up?"

* * *

The first thing he noticed as soon as he stepped out of the elevator on the fourth floor of Harborview Towers was that Max wasn't standing outside the door of Penthouse 4. Unable to shrug off the uneasy feeling that had long since settled into the pit of his stomach, Jason steeled his jaw and headed straight for Sonny's door.

It was unlocked, as it always was, and he strode in without announcing himself. He had no sooner slung his duffel bag onto the floor by Sonny's desk than he heard his boss call out to him.

"Jason?"

"I'm back, Sonny," he shouted toward the kitchen, folding his arms over his chest. "What the hell's going on?"

The mobster emerged from the dark hallway and Jason was at once struck by how different he looked. Sonny looked as if he had aged a year in a day, and his grim obsidian eyes were as hard as stone as he strode over to the main desk. Jason swallowed, letting his arms fall limply at his sides. Time had trained him to recognize the gravity of any given conflict simply by looking at Sonny and if his present appearance was any indication, they were looking at a very bleak situation.

Sonny opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Carly's yell. The blonde had heard Jason enter and was now thundering down the steps. Jason exchanged glances with his boss, watching as the mobster wearily scrubbed a hand over his face, and then turned his attention toward Carly.

"Jason, you're back!" He recognized the untold relief in her voice and held his arms open to her, catching her as she flew into his embrace. "Oh, I'm so glad you're back." The enforcer shot a quizzical glance at his mentor over his best friend's shoulder, but Sonny remained silent.

"Guess what?" Carly asked¸ pulling back enough for Jason to see the dark circles under her eyes. Her long blonde hair had been pulled back into a messy ponytail, and she was dressed in a simple brown tracksuit.

The enforcer looked down at her, confused, and shrugged. "What?"

She lowered her hands from around his neck to rest on her flat belly, looking up at him with serious, emotionless hazel eyes. "I'm pregnant."

Jason's mouth fell open, but he snapped it shut quickly. Carly remained quiet as he looked her over, her hands still resting on her stomach, and the enforcer could only tug on his ear as the full weight of her announcement bore down on him. "Oh…congratulations."

She could see that he was sincere, and her nude lips relaxed into a small smile. Jason's arms wrapped gently around her waist when Carly pulled him into another hug, stepping back only to peck him on the cheek. "Thank you," she smiled brightly, her gaze locked on his and avoiding Sonny's entirely. "You're officially happier to hear the news than my own husband."

Jason turned immediately to Sonny, who had closed his eyes and was running a heavy hand through his black curls. "Carly…"

"Save it, Sonny," she replied coldly, wrapping her arms defensively around her middle like Elizabeth sometimes did. "You-"

"Mom?"

Jason looked up at the staircase to see Michael standing on the landing, dressed in his rumpled play clothes. As soon as the little boy saw him, a bright grin bloomed on his chubby little face and he immediately catapulted himself to the main level, shooting across the clean floor to his uncle.

"Jason! Jason, you're back!" He let out a whoop as the enforcer swept him up into his arms, letting his own small arms wrap naturally around the older man's neck. "How was Mexico? Dad said that you guys found Lizabeth, and that she was being held hostage by two senile old coots. What's it mean to be senile, Jason? Is it contagious? Hey, how come Lizabeth isn't with you? Did they not let her back into the country a'cause she's senile, too?"

The mobster broke into a rare grin and jostled the boy lightly in his arms, his smile fading when Michael coughed into his fist. "No, Elizabeth's with a friend of hers. They've got some work to do, but they'll be back as soon as they can. And she's not senile."

"But the old coots are?" Michael questioned, rubbing his palm on his shirt to get rid of the germs his father told him about.

Jason smirked at a weary Sonny, and replied with a curt nod. "Yeah, the old coots definitely are."

The little redhead laughed as his uncle set him down on the floor once more. "Did Mom tell you? I'm gonna be a big brother!"

"I heard," Jason smiled, first at the boy and then his mother. "That's great news, isn't it?"

The child nodded emphatically. "Yeah, but Mom says that babies don't really do much for the first few years. They just eat and sleep and poop and make strange noises that no one understands. So I'll have to wait a little while before I have someone to play Superheroes or baseball with."

"What if it's a girl?" Jason couldn't help asking, and the older man had to bite his cheek to suppress a smirk at the disgusted look on Michael's face.

"It better not be!" he exclaimed, shaking his small fist. "That would be _so_ gross! I won't be able to do anything with her and-"

Sonny frowned when Michael broke off into a coughing fit and exchanged glances with Carly. "You okay, there, Michael?"

The boy nodded, smacking his chest once, but Carly wasn't convinced. "Come on, Mister Man," she ordered, holding out her hand to the five-year old. "I don't like the sound of that – you're probably coming down with something. Teddy's mom said there was a bug going around."

"A bug? Really?" Michael hopped up the stairs after her excitedly. "What kind of bug? Does it fly? Can you eat it? What kind is it, Mom?"

"The kind that gets a hot bath and some Dimetapp – now," Carly replied as the twosome disappeared from view. Jason let out a sigh and then turned toward Sonny.

"You want to tell me what they're still doing here?" The mobster turned his back as he felt his best friend's piercing eyes on him. "And why Carly thinks you're not happy about the baby?"

"I _am_ happy," Sonny replied quietly, heading toward the wet bar and pouring himself some brandy. "I've always wanted us to have our own children. But…"

Jason crossed his arms over his chest and followed reluctantly, standing by the coffee table. "But?"

"The timing's all wrong, Jason," Sonny admitted gruffly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Did you know she's four and a half months along? And we just found out yesterday. The timing's all wrong – it's…it's not safe right now, especially for a woman in her condition. Things…things just got real bad around here, Jason."

"Then why aren't Carly and Michael on the island by now?" Jason asked, gesturing toward the stairs. "Why aren't Max or Johnny in the hallway? What the hell is going on, Sonny?"

The older man smiled absently, staring at a point on the wall as he took a sip of his brandy. "We're under attack."

The enforcer stared at him for a moment. "…You want to run that by me again?"

"Luis Alcazar has resurfaced," Sonny replied, drawing out each word so that he was practically spelling it out to his best friend.

"What happened?"

"Everything was fine when I returned from the safehouse," Sonny sighed. "Everything was fine when we went down to Mexico after Elizabeth. Everything was fine when I got back. And then…Alcazar came up for air. He bounced back with more men and more resources than our reports ever showed possible. And he's out for territory…and blood."

He didn't scare easily, but Jason could feel the anxiety beginning to surface. "Then why aren't Carly and Michael out of the country?"

Sonny indulged in a rare, emotionless grin, the dimples that made the women swoon out in full-force. He clinked the ice cubes in his glass and glanced over at his best friend, his obsidian eyes hard and dark. "Because our airplane hanger has been destroyed."

Jason's eyes widened, and the mobster continued. "Carly and Michael were packed. They were ready to go. Max was going to get the car ready when we got word that the hangar was bombed. Our jets – destroyed. Two pilots and three crewmen killed. It was clean and quick…and it was Alcazar."

The enforcer had to grip the edge of the wet bar as he thought to himself. "A message."

"A message," Sonny agreed, downing the last of his brandy. "A message to stay put or we really _will_ be killed."

"The Families? What are they prepared to do about this?"

"The Five Families are all on increased alert," the mob boss replied, setting his glass down on the counter. "They're prepared to join us and pool our resources together to fight Alcazar – the preliminary steps are being taken right-"

"Sonny!"

The two men spun around in time to see Carly barreling down the staircase, her blonde mane flying behind her. "Carly, what are you-"

The blonde ignored her husband and threw herself at the remote, immediately aiming it at the television and flipping to the local news channel. Sonny and Jason stared at the photogenic Asian anchorwoman, her serious but melodic voice echoing in the silent room.

"The warehouses," Carly informed them quietly. "The strongholds of the Five Families – all of them exploded exactly thirteen minutes ago, all together."

Sonny's mouth fell open as he watched the news coverage and footage of the five burning sites where firefighters were vainly attempting to fight the blaze before it killed any more people or destroyed any more property. It was a sign – a sign could hardly be any more clear in their line of work. It was a sign that made it quite apparent that none of the other organizations would interfere with the upcoming plans of the perpetrator upon risk of further destruction and bloodshed. Numbly, his gaze swung toward Jason, meeting his enforcer's stricken and disbelieving eyes.

"…And we stand alone."


	26. 26

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 26**

They stayed in the research compound within the confines of Oxford University all day, trying to learn more about the artifact. Robert was fairly certain now that it was a key to one of Helena's many hidden vaults or crypts, despite the fact that both Faolan and Mark had provided several viable alternatives.

"It's typical of her style," the detective mumbled, pacing back and forth past the desk where his colleagues were standing as Elizabeth swung her legs off the edge. It was late and the petite brunette was starving since they had skipped lunch, but she remained quiet and tried to stay out of the way as the secret agent worked his magic. "She's very fond of locks and keys, you know – be they physical or of the mind."

"You're…you're thinking about Lucky," she spoke up quietly, earning a grim look from the older man.

He nodded uneasily, reluctantly. "Yes. It's her specialty. She likes to unleash hidden secrets – her Popsicle son, Stavros, or the demons within Lucky's own mind that caused him to try to kill his father. She's the master of _what's behind door number one? _Make a killing as a game show host, she would – no pun intended."

"Good," Faolan snorted derisively. "Puns – the most vulgar sort of humor."

"So…what could she have locked up this time?"

Robert sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck in an attempt to alleviate the tension that had long since gathered there. "Something the likes of which we've never seen before, Elizabeth. Helena doesn't repeat her tricks."

"Do you think…" she swallowed roughly, braving a glance at the innocuous cast sitting next to her. "Do you think she needs the necklace to start her next phase – or whatever it is that she's got planned – and we're holding her up because we've got it?"

"It's possible, doll," he replied, slowly closing the distance between them as he debated whether or not to tell her of his long-standing suspicions. But as he looked into her deep, solemn sapphire eyes, Robert had to admit that this was not the time to sweep important information under the rug just to keep her from being afraid. "If the artifact is what she needs to launch her attack, she's going to prove much more diligent in her pursuit of its retrieval than I'm sure either of us would like to think."

The young woman studied him as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, clearly wanting to add something there, but keeping himself from doing so. "What aren't you saying, Robbie?"

He licked his lips nervously, looking up to find that Faolan's eyes were on him as well. The professor shook his head silently, warning him against what he planned to do, but Robert forged ahead anyway. "I don't want you to panic, Elizabeth…"

"-then tell me straight up," she suggested, crossing her legs and deliberately folding her hands together so she couldn't wring her fingers anymore.

"All right, _straight up_," he agreed, gripping the edge of the desk with his hand. "I think Helena knows that we have the necklace. Furthermore, I think she knows that you were the one in the village trying to retrieve it."

He watched as her eyes widen slightly as Faolan shook his head in the background, but the fearful outburst he half-expected didn't come.

"…It doesn't surprise me to hear you say that," she started slowly, carefully, her hand gripping the other tightly. "It's almost…reassuring, because that's what I've been thinking since we left Mexico, too. Only I thought I was just being paranoid and didn't want to cause any problems."

Robert let out a heavy sigh and bowed his head, the irony not lost on him. He had kept quiet hoping not to alarm her, and she had done the same hoping not to add to his compounding worries. "I have no way of knowing for sure, Elizabeth," he told her quietly. "It's merely a suspicion of mine. That's why it's crucial that we leave this town as soon as possible."

"Tonight?" she asked hopefully, her sapphire eyes following him faithfully as he began to pace once more. "Can we leave tonight?"

"I think it would be wise," he responded gruffly, sharing a grim look with Faolan. "Any more time that we spend trying to figure out the roots of the trinket is time we spend speculating – we know the basics as well as the meaning of the verse. Despite Mark and Faolan's best efforts, I'm loath to think that we can gain any more practical insight into it. Meanwhile, Helena's most likely closing in around us. It would be good to get out as soon as we can."

* * *

An hour later, Elizabeth found herself hugging her Dr. Wilde goodbye within the screened entrance of the research compound. He told her to be careful and to follow Robert's lead, knowing that she would learn a lot from him. She promised that she would and kissed his sunken cheek before shaking Mark's hand and quickly ducking out of the facility on Robert's heels.

They took the quickest route to the side gates of the campus and slipped away into the darkness. Robert managed to discreetly hail a cab and practically dove into it, pulling her along after him. His gun was engaged at his side as he exchanged words with the driver, and Elizabeth realized that it was because the agent legitimately feared that the driver could very well be one of Helena's paid henchmen.

The ride seemed interminable as the two of them sat side by side, their gazes locked on the passing landscape. When they were three blocks away from their hotel, Robert announced that they would be getting off. Elizabeth ducked out first, her dark eyes quickly scanning the nearby area for any suspicious signs as Robert shoved a few bills into the cabbie's hand and hopped out himself.

"Stick close to the buildings," he ordered in a low voice, looking over his shoulder to make sure that she wasn't too far behind. "Stay out of the streetlights, walk fast, and keep your eyes and ears open."

Elizabeth did as she was told, keeping her hand on her revolver, all the while praying she wouldn't have to tug it out of her jeans. The whispered words became a mantra as she dogged Robert's silent footsteps – _please God don't make me shoot please God don't make me shoot._

He sensed her anxiety but found little way to alleviate it. The only thing that would put _either_ of them at ease would be barricading themselves in their shared hotel room once they were certain it was secured.

"Not too far now," he murmured, motioning for her to step up by his side. She did so immediately and they walked side by side, their steps brisk and harried. The hotel came into view and she sighed with relief, making the mistake of looking over at him.

"Do you think-"

Elizabeth didn't have time to finish her question when Robert abruptly snaked an arm around her waist and pulled hard, causing her to lose her footing. In a matter of seconds, she found herself sandwiched neatly between a brick wall and Robert's chest in a dark alley as the detective discreetly peered out of the shadows.

"…Robbie?"

His pale blue eyes were trained on the second floor of the Trilling Inn, third door from the staircase. Their room. "We've been discovered."

Her mouth fell open on a silent gasp, the fingers she rested lightly on his shoulder fisting into the dark blue sweater he wore. "What do you see?"

"Two of them," he responded quietly, taking a step back so he could remain in the shadows the alley afforded and yet manage a better view. "One dressed in a suit – like a clerk – and the other rolling a room service cart."

"How do you know-" she snapped her mouth shut abruptly, recognizing a foolish question before it fully left her lips. _Of course_ they were Helena's men. Neither she, Jason, nor Robert had ever ordered room service, and Robert had even left a note with the main desk specifically saying that they were not to be disturbed in any way, shape, or form – if there was an urgent matter, the staff could contact him on his cell phone and he would come to them. These were definitely Helena's goons.

"What are they doing?"

"They just broke in," he sighed, letting out a dry, humorless chuckle. "That's it – the end of the line in this town."

She nodded in agreement, but then a thought occurred to her and the brunette gasped sharply, fisting a hand in his sweater and pulling him toward her. "Robbie! The necklace! They'll find-"

He quirked a brow, his weathered face crinkling into a bland smirk as he lifted the open flap of his worn jacket to let her see the bulge in the breast pocket. "Already covered there, doll."

Elizabeth let out a sigh of relief, offering him a small smile as her hands immediately went to her own pockets and neck. _Passport…identification…broken red glass wrapped in a handkerchief…subway token…_and the amulet that Jason had gifted her tucked safely under her own black sweater. "I'm good, too."

Robert nodded, taking one last look at their breached quarters, and then the agent grabbed her hand and pulled her down the alley, their footsteps swift but careful in the silence of the pressing night. "Let's go. We need to be in Paris as soon as possible."

* * *

"-I realize that I'm putting you in a difficult position, Don Giagnorio," Sonny started, his voice taking on the pitch of desperation. "Yes, I realize that you lost your entire shipment – trust me, we're not doing any better…no, no, I would never dream of asking you to endanger the lives of your family members; as you know, I have a wife and son myself…"

Jason let himself into the penthouse, slightly out of breath. He had been out with a small squadron of guards visiting with a contact in the area who had not been able to give him any good news. From the looks of it, they were already surrounded by Alcazar's men; their every move was being watched, which was why the contact was eager to make his escape from town as soon as possible. Jason knew, however, that the same feat would not be easy for him and Sonny – with their hangar and all their jets destroyed, an escape by air was impossible. The airfield was being closely monitored, and if Alcazar had gone through all that trouble already, it would be no stretch of the imagination to assume that he already had his men on all the routes out of town. They were being watched, contained like fish in a barrel, and it was only a matter of time before Alcazar started shooting.

He shrugged stiffly out of his leather jacket, holding it in his hands as he watched Sonny try to reason with the final head of the Five Families. The Cuban's hand tightened around the back of his favorite desk chair and he let out a shallow breath, and Jason knew instantly that it was not going well at all.

"I understand that you're pressed for resources and men," the kingpin responded slowly, carefully, weighing each word and rolling it around in his mouth as if he were tasting it. "But this situation with Alcazar will most likely spread to the territories of the other families…Don Giagnorio, am I a man in the position to threaten _anyone_ at this point?"

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose, letting his jacket fall onto the armrest of the desk chair. From the sound of it, the heads of the families understood the elevated risk and were getting cagey and paranoid. They must be, if one of them accused Sonny of threatening him.

"I-I understand," Sonny got out, successfully stifling a cough on his sleeve. "But if we don't take a stand _together_ on this…No, no, wait a-" His hand slammed down on the desk, making his favorite marble paperweights rattle. "Don Giagnorio, I can't do this on my own!"

Jason's chest constricted at the sound of his boss pleading with the other head – pleading for assistance, for support, for _anything_ other than being left alone in the face of imminent destruction.

Sonny gaped into the phone, stunned to hear marked silence on the other end. "Hello? Hello?" He tapped the button on the cradle frantically. "Hello?…_Damn!_"

The enforcer neatly stepped out of the way as his boss slammed the phone back on its cradle and sent it crashing to the floor with one good sweep of his arm. With his hands braced flat against his desk, Sonny sucked in a few barely controlled breaths before straightening and turning enough to acknowledge Jason's presence.

"None of them are prepared to help us." He watched out of the corner of his eye as his enforcer scrubbed a hand over his face. "Each head of the Five Families received a person message from Luis Alcazar – delivered by courier – saying that they would face no more threats or problems as long as they didn't throw their lot in with us. If any one of them tried to help us, their entire organization and holdings would be destroyed."

"We're alone," Jason repeated quietly. "We stand alone."

The Cuban licked his lips, pushing himself away from his desk. "Yeah," he agreed softly, his eyes helplessly turning toward the staircase leading up to his wife and son. "Yeah, we do."

A moment of strained silence passed between the two men as the mob lord shuffled toward the wet bar, in desperate need of some scotch. Jason followed reluctantly, collapsing on the couch as Sonny poured two glasses and passed one over to him.

"Have you…Have you got anything?" Sonny asked, popping the first button of his shirt and wincing as the fiery liquid burned its way down his already scratchy throat.

The enforcer shook his head. "All routes have been sealed – there's no way out for us. The only thing to do is to stay and…"

"To stay and fight," Sonny laughed, running a hand through his hair. His movements were jerky and strained as he began to pace around his living room. "We have a chance if our men and resources can outlast his…"

Jason didn't need Sonny to voice the last part of his sentence; he knew that their men and their resources would not outlast Alcazar's. Their initial reports on the man when he had first shown up in his white yacht had revealed nothing about his hidden wealth of manpower and capital. At first, he had been a powerful threat but one that could be defeated with the correct strategies. Now, neither he nor Sonny were so sure.

"I'll get in touch with our associates outside the Tri-State area," he spoke up suddenly. "There's a chance-"

"Do that," Sonny agreed. "I'll help. If the Five Families won't pull together, we'll need some outside support." He took another gulp of his scotch, swirling the liquid around in his glass. "Hey…do you know where Robert and Elizabeth are?"

"They're safe," Jason sighed, feeling little but relief for the first time since he had returned to Port Charles. "They're in Oxford, England, meeting with a professor friend of hers."

"How'd that go?"

An ironic smirk made the enforcer's lips twitch. "The professor turned out to be a colleague of Robert's from the WSB – he's been faking his death for the past thirty years."

Sonny let out a whistle. "Thirty years?"

Jason nodded. "He's a cryptographer – or was, anyway. He was working in Egypt when the agency helped stage his death. Robert said that he and a couple others watched the Egyptian police remove his remains from the warehouse excavation. They all thought he died."

"And?"

"He went under the knife and took on a false identity supplied by the Bureau in England," Jason shrugged, having yet to take a sip of his drink. "He's been tenured at Oxford as an art history professor for about thirty years. Taught Elizabeth's father in his undergrad years."

"And she had no idea?" Sonny indulged in a harsh laugh when his best friend shook his head. "Well, hey, she can't stay mad at _me_ long after that, right?"

Jason smirked, bringing his glass to his lips as he remembered his conversation with Elizabeth about the incident. "No, I guess not."

Another long silence passed between the two men, and they heard soft footsteps on the stairs. Looking up, Jason saw Carly descend the staircase dressed in a pair of cotton pants and a hoodie. She held an empty bottle of cough syrup in her hands and tossed it into a nearby wastebasket before slowly shuffling over to where the men sat.

Sonny extended an arm and she came silently, pulling her legs up underneath her on the couch and resting her cheek against his shoulder. Jason exchanged looks with his boss as the older man absently stroked his wife's soft hair. He had managed to convince her that he_ was_ happy about the baby, but he was worried for their safety due to the strains of the business. From the looks of it, Carly had understood.

"I want to send you and Michael to a safehouse within Port Charles," Sonny spoke up softly, breaking the oppressive silence in the room as he threaded his fingers through his wife's tawny mane. "Johnny and Max are already out making sure it's ready."

Jason watched as Carly nodded wearily. "Okay. I'll make sure we're packed."

But the blonde didn't move from her spot. Instead, she cuddled closer against her husband's side as her wide hazel eyes sought her best friend's. "Jason? What happened about Elizabeth?"

The enforcer licked his lips, rolling his almost empty glass between his palms. "She's with Robert now – Robert Scorpio."

Carly nodded absently. "Yeah, Sonny said he was alive."

Jason nodded, his brows furrowing slightly with concern as he watched the blonde stifle a yawn. "They're in England right now – if we can get word to them, I'm going to tell them not to come home for a while."

"Are things _that_ bad?" she asked quietly, her hand fisting in her husband's olive green shirt. "You can tell me, you know."

Jason didn't open his mouth. Instead, he looked at Sonny, who sighed heavily.

"It's going to be okay, Carly," was all the older man said, squeezing her side. "We'll fix it."

She knew the real meaning of his words and thankfully didn't press any further – either out of consideration or sheer weariness. Jason wouldn't have been surprised if it was the latter instead of the former. "Okay. I…I should go check on Michael again."

Sonny's brows crinkled with concern. "Is he still coughing?"

The blonde shook her head. "He's been okay for a few hours now – I gave him that cough medicine in the evening and again just now. I don't want him getting sick."

Her husband nodded, his fingers still tangled in her limp hair. "It's probably just a virus, though – it must be going around his playgroup or class. I'll make sure he has some fresh orange juice with breakfast tomorrow."

Carly smirked at her husband's firm belief in the healing qualities of the citrus fruit. "He likes it with a little salt and pepper now. He wants to drink it like you drink yours, you know."

Sonny chuckled at that, his chest swelling up with pride. But his reply to his wife was cut short by footsteps in the hall, and before either he or Jason could turn around, the heavy oak door to Penthouse 4 was kicked and broken down.

Carly muffled a sharp scream, both of her hands clamped tightly over her mouth as Sonny and Jason leapt to their feet. In the doorway stood a small group of dark-haired men dressed in impeccable black suits. Each held a loaded and engaged black gun; the men at the front pointed theirs squarely at the two stunned mobsters.

As the others kept an eye on the two to make sure they didn't try anything, one pushed his way forward and sauntered over to Sonny, an envelope in his hands and a wicked smirk on his lips.

"Courtesy of Luis Alcazar," he purred in an unmistakable Spanish accent. He tossed the letter at Sonny, keeping his gun steady as the mobster grabbed it before it could fall to the ground. "I wouldn't do anything stupid, if I were you, Mister Corinthos. Consider yourself officially under house arrest."


	27. 27

**Previously: **_Robert and Elizabeth realize they've been found and flee Oxford under the cover of darkness; Jason and Sonny find that Luis Alcazar has placed his men in Harborview Towers and put them under house arrest. _

**Note: **The flow of time in this story isn't explicit. I want it that way. For example, a scene with Sonny/Jason might occur a full day or two before or after the scene with Robert/Liz found in the same chapter. Just because the two segments are juxtaposed does not mean that they occur simultaneously.

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 27**

Carly hugged her knees defensively to her chest, her wide hazel eyes following Sonny and Jason as the men paced around the room. Their movements were jerky and agitated as they roamed the small enclosure like trapped animals. It had been almost a full day since Alcazar's men had taken over Harborview Towers, and the feel of captivity was taking its toll on them all.

Sonny's men downstairs had proved no great obstacle to overcome as Alcazar's men stormed in. The ambush was over almost as soon as it began, with seven men dead and thirteen others injured. The intruders had methodically removed the bodies of the guards and lobby clerks alike – all witnesses were disposed as well – and immediately filled the positions with their own men. Once that was done, a small group had marched upstairs to their floor to deliver a personal note to their conquered enemy.

The note had been very simple: Alcazar had ridiculed Sonny's attempts to drive him out of Port Charles and informed the mobster that he and his family would remain in their penthouse and await his arrival; there were a few pressing matters he wanted to discuss with the two of them.

Carly swept her bangs out of her face as her husband and best friend continued to pace. They talked together in low, confiding voices, weighing their options and trying to come up with a way out.

Michael could be heard thumping around upstairs. They had all done their best to cushion the little boy from the situation, and were hoping to go as long as they possibly could without telling him that they were all in danger. But children were perceptive and picked up on tension and frustration, and Carly knew their charade wouldn't work for long.

She watched the men walk and talk, their features tense and hardened. Carly shifted on the couch, straining to hear what was being said. She heard several unfamiliar names bandied about and assumed that they were some associates out of the area who were able and willing to assist in the dire situation.

Knowing that she wouldn't be missed, Carly slid wearily off the couch and scurried upstairs to check on her son. His cough had abated, thankfully, but he had come down with a light fever that had lasted throughout the greater part of the day. But he was sprawled out on the floor of his bedroom playing with his action figures as a cartoon blared in the background, totally oblivious to the imminent danger that lurked just outside their penthouse door.

She watched him through the crack in the door, frowning when he'd occasionally sit up and wipe his nose before pitching the tissue into his almost overflowing wastebasket. He still had a couple hours left before she could force a spoonful of cough syrup down his throat, so she figured it might be best to just leave him to his toys. With a sigh, she turned around in the hall and debated what to do. She didn't want to bother her son and she didn't want to return downstairs and wallow in dread and uncertainty like her husband and best friend.

Left with little else, she turned on her heel and retreated into her bedroom to the master bath, ready for a long, hot shower. The penthouse was still dead quiet when she emerged forty-five minutes later, flushed pink from the water and dressed in a soft black tracksuit.

Sonny and Jason were still pacing and barely noticed her as she curled up on the couch again with one of the stuffed animals Michael had left downstairs. She didn't have much of an appetite and didn't feel like disturbing the men by turning on the television, so she sat quietly on the couch holding the blue dinosaur close to her heart.

Carly was still seated like that when there was a knock on the door. Sonny and Jason perked up, looking at each other and then the door. There were no guards on the outside to answer – Johnny and Max had left a day ago to prepare the safe house for Carly and Michael and had disappeared since. But the visitor needed no introduction because the door was soon flung open and two burly guards in impeccable black suits entered with a tall, formidable Spaniard following close behind.

The blonde sat up straighter on the couch, setting her feet on the floor but keeping the dinosaur close to her breast. Luis Alcazar had just entered Penthouse 4 with as much charm and ease as if the bastard actually belonged there.

"Corinthos," he purred, his hands slipping into the pockets of his custom-made suit. "Morgan. Thank you for inviting me to your lovely home."

A muscle in Jason's jaw ticked but he kept quiet, feeling Sonny slowly simmering with rage next to him. They knew it was only a matter of time before Alcazar showed up with his posse to gloat, and had decided that they'd let him flap his gums and shoot his mouth off all by himself with no additional help from them.

"Mrs. Corinthos," Luis acknowledged, tipping his head respectfully at Carly who drew back even further on the olive green couch. "You're looking well this evening."

Sonny deliberately stepped into view then, insinuating himself in between Alcazar and his wife. Jason followed suit and stood right at his side, his arms folded over his chest and his hard cerulean eyes piercing into Alcazar's smug obsidian ones.

"Gentlemen, let's get down to it, shall we?" the Spaniard suggested as his guards fanned out at his flanks, conquering the room. "As you're well aware, you have been placed under house arrest. Well, rather, _you_ have, Corinthos." His dark eyes flickered toward Jason, a ghost of a smirk making his lips twitch. "Morgan is free to come and go as he pleases – after all, the enforcer is entirely worthless when his boss is rendered powerless."

A mask of granite had long descended over his features, and Jason didn't give Alcazar the benefit of a reaction. If they stayed quiet, Alcazar would say what he wanted to say and then leave the penthouse. Hopefully, Michael would keep himself entertained upstairs and wouldn't have to meet their unfortunate and unwanted guest.

"My men are placed throughout the Towers," Alcazar continued, gesturing to the building with one hand. "They are also placed outside your door and on this floor – you'll soon find out, if you don't take my word for it, that escape is really quite futile."

Sonny glared at him, squaring his jaw, and likewise folded his arms over his chest. Carly shivered behind him, doing her best to remain inconspicuous. She had never seen her husband this helpless before; he remained silent as a mark of dignity and strength, but she knew that he and Jason had quickly run out of options.

"You thought you could drive me out of the Eastern seaboard." Alcazar's voice dropped an octave, becoming hard and emotionless. "You thought you could run me off by letting me think that I had won – only to come back in triumph and send me packing. Clearly, that worked." The words rolled off his tongue with considerable disdain as the arms dealer sneered at them. "You're through, Corinthos. It's all over for you."

Carly's hands tightened around the dinosaur's long neck as she watched Jason's hands curl into fists. But two of Alcazar's guards stepped up just then, glaring menacingly at her best friend in an attempt to put him in his place. With a low, strained growl, Jason forced his hands to relax and stood down, waiting for Alcazar to finish.

"I've already assumed control of most of your territory," he informed them blandly, brushing an imaginary piece of lint off his fine lapel. "The rest will follow soon enough. Honestly, Corinthos, I was expecting you to put up more of a fight than this, but I guess not." He shrugged amiably, his obsidian eyes glittering in the dimly lit room. "It's a pity you're so drastically outnumbered and outmatched – I was looking forward to a real competition."

A couple of the guards chuckled derisively, and Carly's eyes narrowed. She hated this. She hated every single word that came out of the oily bastard's mouth. But he just wouldn't stop.

"I'll just have to get over it, I suppose," he continued casually. "Meanwhile, you and your lovely little family – how _is_ your boy, by the way? – will just have to sit in your magnificent, fortified penthouse until I decide to do away with you."

Carly gasped, unable to help it, and Alcazar seized on the single expression of fear.

"Oh, yes, Mrs. Corinthos, I'm afraid it's true," he pretended to sympathize. "You see, you're of absolutely no use to me. I control eighty-five percent of what was once yours; in a few hours, I'll have all the rest. You're of no consequence, I'm afraid. Leaving you alive is bad business, actually – I'm sure your husband knows all about that. But if you're nice and don't give my men any trouble, I'll make sure the end comes quickly for you and your little boy."

Her blood whistled hot and fast through her veins, and Carly clenched her hands into fists so hard that her nails actually bit into her palms, painting glistening red crescents on the smooth flesh. "You son of a-"

"Careful," Alcazar warned, wagging his finger as he turned smoothly on his polished calfskin shoes. "I can easily revoke my magnanimous offer. You should really teach your wife some manners, Corinthos."

The guards smirked, two of them moving aside and holding the door open for their employer. Alcazar turned to look at them, discreetly clearing his slightly raw throat. "Live each day as if it were your last, Corinthos…because one of them will be, and very soon."

* * *

Robert Scorpio strode down the sidewalk toward the main doors of a bustling Parisian hospital with Elizabeth close by his side. "Just stay inconspicuous and we'll be all right. Try not to call attention to yourself any more than necessary."

"Are you worried about Helena's henchmen?" she asked, having to trot to keep up with him. She managed to catch her breath as he held the door for her and quickly ushered her into the brightly lit hospital.

"No – my daughter," he responded dryly, avoiding her gaze.

"Robin!" The brunette gaped at him, snapping her mouth shut when he glared at her for her outburst. "Robin's _here_?" she hissed, careful to keep her voice low.

Robert shrugged, hurrying her down the corridor and around the corner to the elevators. He waited until they were safely aboard and for the doors to close before he replied. "She's been studying at La Sorbonne for the past few years and upon her matriculation, I…I had it arranged so that she'd end up doing her residency here. With Bunbury right upstairs, it seemed like the safest option. I had a contact from the Bureau walking the same halls as my daughter – he'd keep me informed and he'd also make sure she stayed safe."

The detective shrugged sheepishly when Elizabeth huffed and rolled her eyes. "What? It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Unbelievable," the petite brunette muttered as the elevator doors swung open. Robert stepped out first and glanced over his shoulder curiously when he saw her still peering out nervously, looking both ways before she hopped off the elevator and darted to his side.

"What on earth's the matter with you?"

She frowned at him, tugging on the corner of her sleeve. "I don't like it here. I feel like I'm being watched."

"We're in a hospital, doll," he reminded her kindly, throwing an arm around her shoulder and leading her down the hallway. "We _are_ being watched."

"Yeah, well…" She trailed off, glancing at the passing orderlies and sidling closer to him as they walked. "I guess I'm just paranoid when it comes to Helena – I think I keep expecting one of those guys to jump out from behind a potted plant and jab a loaded syringe into my arm." Robert laughed as they rounded the corner, his arm still resting reassuringly on her shoulders. "Hey, what made you think we were being followed in Calvillo, anyway? You never explained it."

The detective sobered up and cleared his throat absently, slowly withdrawing his arm as they neared the information desk. "Just a feeling," he responded vaguely as they walked up to the raven-haired nurse behind the counter. "Good evenin', Miss."

"Good evening," she replied with a light French accent. "How may I help you?"

"I came here with my daughter to meet with Dr. Jean-Paul Levitte," Robert replied firmly as Elizabeth stood by his side and did her best not to fidget. "Is he in?"

"I'm sorry, _Monsieur, _but Dr. Levitte is very busy," the nurse replied sweetly, conveying that she had no intention of showing the drop-ins to the renowned physician's office. "Perhaps I can-"

"I'd like his personal line, if you please," Robert interrupted, offering her one of his signature half-smiles. "Could you connect me? That would be wonderful."

Elizabeth bit the inside of her cheek as the nurse quirked a brow at the agent but did as she was asked, handing the receiver over to him once the good doctor picked up. "There you are, _Monsieur_."

"Hello, Dr. Levitte? Buxley here – Algernon Buxley. We spoke earlier." Robert's face crinkled into an easy, familiar smile that Elizabeth suspected was more for the nurse's benefit than anyone else's. "Yes. I'm here with my daughter, Gwendolyn. You remember what I told you about Gwennie, don't you?"

The nurse glanced at Elizabeth, who simply batted her lashes and smiled back sweetly.

"That's right – that horrible condition. Her mother had the same thing, you know. And it was horrible when she ended – I do say, she rather exploded!"

This time, the nurse whipped around to stare at the brunette, as if afraid from overhearing the tidbit that she too would do the same at any time just like her dearly departed mother. Elizabeth actively struggled to keep a straight face, doing her best to look like a girl who might…explode.

"Thank you kindly, Doctor. I really do appreciate this. We'll be right over." With a triumphant smile, Robert handed the phone back to the nurse, who stared at him aghast. "Thank you, Miss. If you would be so kind as to direct us to his office?"

The nurse snapped her mouth shut and nodded, clearing her throat before she gave them directions. Elizabeth took Robert's arm and quickly took off, afraid she'd burst into laughter right in front of the poor young woman.

They had just rounded the corner when Robert finally chuckled, and that was when Elizabeth lost it. She did her best to stifle her giggles with her sleeve as they walked. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation after their long journey to France, but she found that absolutely hysterical.

"So am I going to explode, Robbie?" she asked sweetly, patting her stomach. "Boy, it's dangerous for you to be around me then, isn't it?"

The detective laughed, looking around carefully as they neared Dr. Levitte's office. "That was code, doll – it's a highly sophisticated system, you know-"

"Uh-huh," Elizabeth drawled, rolling her eyes. "Sure. You guys just like imagining people spontaneously combusting, that's all."

"Here we are," Robert cut in, serious now as he knocked on the appropriate door before opening it. He peeked into the room, relieved to see his colleague sitting behind his desk. "Bunbury."

"Pegasus," Dr. Levitte nodded as the two stepped into his secure office. "Wildcard. I just got word this morning that you were on your way. It's good to see you made it safely."

"Who's Wildcard?" Elizabeth whispered as the doctor turned to browse through a nearby file cabinet. "Oh – is that _me_? Really?"

"Sh," Robert smirked, patting her hand as they took their seats in front of the massive mahogany desk. "How is everything, Jean?"

"Everything is splendid," the doctor replied in a matter-of-fact tone as he withdrew the correct file and placed it in front of him. "It's been a rather uneventful few months here, to be honest. Except for one incident…"

Robert quirked a brow and leaned forward uneasily. "What happened?"

Elizabeth bit her lip, knowing that the two had immediately gone to talk about Robin. Dr. Levitte tented his fingers, leaning forward at his desk as he spoke confidingly to his associate. "We lost power after some bad winds knocked out the lines about two weeks ago. The generators kicked in, of course, which was fortunate because all of the operating rooms were filled to capacity. Due to the weather conditions, however, Robin's resident couldn't make it back to the hospital – he was stranded at the hospital in Seine, where he'd gone to check on a live donor."

The agent's brows furrowed with concern. "Well? Get on with it."

Jean-Paul leaned back, smiling proudly. "Your little girl performed quadruple bypass surgery with only one of her fellow interns in the operating room," he informed him, his green eyes twinkling. "Her resident was on the phone the entire time, coaching her through it, but it was all Robin in there. She has the makings of a fine thoracic surgeon, Robert – one of the most promising interns I've seen in my years at this institution."

Elizabeth kept her smile in check as she watched Robert puff out his chest. "And why not? She comes from good stock, you know."

"That she does," Jean laughed, returning to business. "Now – the wire I received this morning wasn't very specific, I'm afraid. What's going on? I understood from your call just now that-"

The agent rubbed his hands together. "-Your gal Friday is on a rampage again."

The doctor closed his eyes with the nod, and Elizabeth suspected that the spontaneous-combustion-code might have some legitimacy to it. "Marvelous. What's the old bat trying to do this time?"

"We wish we know," Robert shrugged, looking over at Elizabeth as if he'd forgotten that she was there. "Oh, Jean, I haven't introduced you. This is Elizabeth Webber – she's the one that recovered one of Helena's artifacts from its location in the house of Don Buenaventura in Aguascalientes. Elizabeth, this is Dr. Jean-Paul Levitte – we call him Bunbury."

"Pleasure, Agent Webber," the man replied, shaking her hand firmly and not giving her a chance to explain that she was nowhere close to being an agent. "I must admit, I was curious to meet you when Pentagruel sent the wire – I'd never heard your codename used before. What artifact did you extricate from Mexico?"

"It's a ruby necklace," she replied simply, crossing her legs and folding her hands over her knees. "There's a large ruby right at the center, surrounded by several smaller ones. It's all done in silver, with the first verse of the Book of Lamentations written on the back in raised Greek script."

"We have reason to believe that it's a key or puzzle of some sort," Robert added, turning back to his colleague. "Now that we know what the writing means, we came to you, hoping you had some answers for us."

"What kind of answers are you looking for?"

"We need the case files on Helena," Robert replied smoothly.

Jean-Paul nodded and stood up, extending the folder he had previously drawn from his cabinet. Robert took it and flipped through it quickly, reading up on Robin's recent accomplishments at the hospital.

Elizabeth's eyes, however, followed the doctor as he retreated to the far wall of his office. Stooping by a potted plant, he pressed a hidden trigger that caused the photograph to slide into the wall, revealing another secret switchboard. She watched as he entered a few keystrokes and then the bookcase rotated and disappeared behind the adjacent wall, revealing a massive filing system.

"Just the major attacks and locations," Robert called out absently, unfazed by any of this.

It took the doctor about ten minutes to withdraw a satisfactory amount of information from his files. Meanwhile, Robert pointed out a cart of muffins and coffee that stood by Jean's desk, and he and Elizabeth quickly snatched up a pastry and fixed themselves a cup of coffee.

It had been almost twenty-four hours since they had last eaten. After fleeing the hotel, they had high-tailed it to the same nearby airfield that both Pentagruel and Jason had used. Finding no small charter planes that they could use, Robert sought out the smallest plane on the field – a government-issued Cessna named _The Blue Bottle_.

He and Elizabeth had run for it immediately, but were spotted by an armed airfield guard who had instantly asked them to state their business. Without further preamble, Robert had dealt a swift blow with his hand and struck the guard on the neck, and Elizabeth had jumped back as the man crumpled to the ground.

After promising to show her how to accomplish the same feat, Robert had climbed aboard the plane and helped her on. She had buckled herself in carefully as he prepared for takeoff, and they were soon aloft. They had made it to Paris and abandoned the plane at the airport, ducking quickly into a waiting cab that left them a block from the hospital.

And now they were in Dr. Bunbury's office, scarfing down muffins like manna. Elizabeth dusted a few crumbs off her hands as the good doctor returned to his desk and sat back expectantly in her chair, awaiting the news.

"…This should prove helpful," Jean-Paul mumbled, extending a thin stack of papers to Robert as he fiddled with a few others. "It's a fairly concise list – just the bare bones – of Helena's past attempts followed by brief explanations of how the attack was thwarted."

"Yes, this will do nicely," Robert murmured, scanning the pages and passing them on to Elizabeth when he was through. "The freezing incident…the hypnosis…the mutant bees…"

"Mutant bees?" Elizabeth squeaked, straightening the papers in her lap as she tried to keep up.

"Global warming…check," the agent murmured. "Underground missile testing…yes. All right. Jean, I was wondering if you had any insight to this mess. Any new information come through the wire that might be helpful?"

"She's been on the move lately," the doctor responded immediately. "Our contacts have reported her sudden activity with tempered alarm, if I do say so. She was sent to the North Pole by the Spencer character a while back."

"That's correct," Robert answered. "Spencer's actually the one that joined me on the mission. He's in Port Charles right now, keeping an eye on the home front in case Helena surfaces."

"Well, I'm not sure that's entirely likely, but I wouldn't rule it out," the doctor answered. "She went immediately to Siberia when she escaped the pole. From there, she was seen in Vladivostok, then she made the jump to the Asian subcontinent."

"Interesting," Robert murmured. "How long did she stay in each of those locations?"

"Check your file," Jean-Paul ordered as Elizabeth quickly flipped through the pages in her lap. "It wasn't very long, to the best of our calculations. She then made the move to the family's Greek islands and stayed there for quite some time."

"And after that…"

Elizabeth handed Robert the sheet, looking over his shoulder. "After that, Barcelona. That seems kind of random, doesn't it?"

"Indeed it does," the doctor answered. "We have reason to believe that her stops in Russia and Asia were more for convenience than business. What she really wanted was to arrive safely back at her home. Upon doing that, she remained holed up for quite some time-"

"Planning her attack," Robert muttered, still skimming the files.

"-and then she packed up rather abruptly and made the move to Barcelona." The doctor shook his head, leaning back in his leather chair. "It's rather peculiar, but we have no way of getting any more information on that."

"Where is she now?" Elizabeth asked, nibbling her lip as Robert glanced up at his colleague, already knowing the answer.

The doctor sighed, sharing a heavy look with his associate. "…She's currently aboard her yacht, which is stationed off the Iberian Peninsula. She's been moving slowly but has picked up speed in the recent days, and if I had to wager a guess, I'd say that…"

"…That she's making a play for the Atlantic ocean," Robert finished. "The Eastern seaboard, to be specific."

"If she stays on course, then, yes."

The threesome sat in grave silence for a long moment before Dr. Levitte's secretary paged him, and the doctor looked up apologetically. "I'm terribly sorry, but I have a consult-"

"It's no trouble," Robert assured him, quickly rising to his feet. "You've been very helpful. Thank you, Jean."

"Think nothing of it, Robert," the man replied genially, reaching into his pocket and palming a slip of paper before grasping the agent's hand firmly. The detective quickly scanned the writing and slipped the paper into his pocket as Elizabeth shook hands with him as well. "Best of luck to you both. Send a wire if you need anything else."

"We might be back tomorrow," Robert replied, already leading Elizabeth to the door. "After all, my Gwennie goes up and down quite spontaneously, you know."

The brunette rolled her eyes and stepped into the hall, waiting as Robert pulled the door shut behind him. "Where to now?"

"A secure refuge for the night," he answered in a low voice, leading the way down the hallway to the information desk and elevators. "We'll stay here tonight and go over the file, then pick up when we're ready."

"Can we try to get word back to Luke and Jason?" Elizabeth asked hopefully. "I know it's dangerous for you to use your phone, but maybe we could find-"

"Duck!" Robert quickly grabbed her arm and tugged, almost pulling the petite brunette off her feet as the two of them ducked into a women's restroom. Elizabeth regained her balance and glared at the older man, but his pale blue eyes were peering out from the crack in the door.

"What the hell was that for?"

"…Nothing," Robert answered vaguely, refusing to move an inch to allow her to see.

Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest, already knowing what had captured his attention. "You're unbelievable, you know that?"

The detective ignored her, waiting until his daughter finished up her business at the nurse's desk and moved down the hall to the intern's locker room, presumably to scrub up for a surgery. "You know, Elizabeth-"

"Good heavens, sir!"

The two whirled around to find themselves face to face with a stout Englishwoman who did not look pleased upon finding a member of the opposite sex in a segregated bathroom. Elizabeth batted her lashes at Robert, refusing to bail him out, and the detective did his best to turn on the charm.

He shrugged, offering the cross woman a sheepish smile. "Just hiding from the wife – what can I say?" She quirked her brows at him and the smile dropped off his face. "No? All right, then."

Without further ado, he grabbed Elizabeth's arm and yanked her out of the bathroom as the woman continued to squawk at his boorish behavior. The brunette was still giggling while he pulled her through the halls, and Robert glared at her as they stepped onto the elevator and waited for the doors to close.

"Oh, Robbie," she sighed, patting him affectionately on the shoulder as he adjusted the files that were tucked inside his coat. "We've got to work on your people skills."

"Fine thing," the detective huffed as the doors finally shut. "You should be saying the same to that boy of yours – even Gandhi would have taken a poke at him."

The brunette quirked a brow at him, her lips thinning. "Robbie…"

"Why do you tolerate him, anyway?" the agent continued as if she hadn't spoken. "He's boorish and hasn't yet mastered polysyllabic words – in fact, all he does is grunt. It wouldn't surprise me in the least if he peeled his bananas with his feet."

She crossed her arms over her chest as the elevator slowly descended to the main floor. "Robert…"

"He's built like a brick shit house, to be sure," the agent went on, his Australian lingo getting the best of him. "But, Elizabeth, your boy doesn't know Christmas from Bourke Street!"

"You're really got to stop mumbling, Robbie," she replied sweetly, stepping off the elevator as soon as the doors slid open. "I can't understand a word you're saying."

He scowled at her back, stuffing his hands into his pockets and climbing off the elevator before it shut on him. "Accent jokes – this is what I've been reduced to."


	28. 28

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 28**

Robert followed the directions that Jean-Paul had slipped him and before long, he and Elizabeth found themselves at a massive safehouse on the perimeter of a forest preserve. Only a large sign with small white lettering that declared it the _Guard Residence_ stood before the compound, and the two companions exchanged nervous glances before darting toward the side entrance that they were told to use.

The estate was empty for the evening, unfortunately for the unguarded forest preserve. Robert stepped inside first, his weapon drawn and engaged, and Elizabeth followed on his heels in the same position. He made sure the location was secure as she obtained a better feel of their surroundings, and when all was clear they finally breathed a sigh of relief.

"I was told that the pantry would be stocked with various non-perishables," the agent murmured, following Elizabeth as she carefully prowled the dark hallway in search of the kitchen. "Good thing, too – those muffins weren't nearly enough."

The brunette murmured her agreement as she absently rubbed her stomach. Their meals had been so few and far between that her body didn't rumble its plea for food anymore; instead, it made do quietly until she was able to squirrel something away and consume it when they had a moment to breathe.

"Here we go," she exclaimed quietly, looking around as they stepped into the kitchen. She glanced at Robert, her hand on the light switch, but the detective shook his head so she did without.

"First things first," he directed, opening what he correctly assumed to be the pantry. "Let's find some brekkie."

The brunette frowned until she figured out that he meant _breakfast_. "You've really got to stop mumbling, Robbie," she reminded him sweetly as he withdrew some canned goods.

The detective rolled his eyes and set the cans on the counter. Pulling out his army knife, he made quick work opening them and dug around in a drawer for some forks and napkins. Finally, he and Elizabeth settled down in the breakfast nook and began to quickly wolf down what they soon found to be cold canned pasta with some odd variety of meat sauce.

She gagged it down the best she could, reminding herself that she hadn't eaten in quite a while and that beggars couldn't be choosers. Finishing up, they quickly and discreetly disposed of the evidence and retreated to more withdrawn quarters.

Robert poked around until he found a staircase leading to the upper level of the house. It was difficult to navigate their way around the sizable compound in the dark, but he felt that it was in their best interest to remain inconspicuous. They had only been in Paris for a few hours, but there was no safety in that – Helena could have very well discovered their whereabouts shortly after their hotel room turned up empty.

Together, they found their way to a massive bedroom with large windows. Sure enough, there was an empty walk-in closet that functioned easily as a tiny room. After snagging a few pillows and blankets, they quickly crept into the closet and shut the door.

Elizabeth arranged her pillow and blanket and lay down almost immediately. But even though she was tired, she knew she wouldn't be getting much sleep. Instead, she propped her head on her arm and watched as Robert pulled out a slim flashlight and spread the contents of Levitte's file out on the floor between them.

A long moment passed as he read and reread the neat typeface, his flashlight moving at a constant speed over the text. Elizabeth's lids drooped as he read, his lips moving to form the words, and occasionally mumbling something about exotic foreign locales.

"What are you thinking, Robbie?"

"I'm coming up with a broad list of the tricks Helena's already pulled," he replied quietly, his gray brows furrowed as he continued to read. "Remember what I told you about her game?"

"She never plays the same trick twice?"

"That's right," he nodded absently. "She's been very busy for the past two decades, I'll tell you that…it makes me wonder what she actually has left in that hat of hers."

* * *

A few hours had passed, but the sun had not yet risen over the Guard Residence twenty-three miles away from the Parisian hospital.

Robert and Elizabeth were still in the closet, but only the brunette was asleep. The agent sat with his back propped up against the wall, his flashlight resting languidly in his limp fingers. He watched Elizabeth sleep, curled up in a small ball, and let out a sigh as he closed his eyes. He was tired, to be sure, but sleep was not forthcoming and he found himself rather envious of the girl snoring lightly next to him.

But the hours had proved fruitful in their own way. Now, he at least had a few suspicions as to what Helena might be up to; all that remained was to high-tail it back to the hospital at daybreak and speak to Jean-Paul once more. But knowing his luck, the ideas he had tossed around in his head were nothing compared to what Helena really had planned. He had to give it to the old girl – she knew her craft. Not everyone could be successful as a royal psychotic homicidal billionaire with a goddess complex.

Robert tapped his fingers against the wall, restlessness prompting him to reach for the papers once more. He had just finished organizing them in chronological order of Helena's attacks when his cell phone vibrated from its place on the floor. The echoing buzz woke up Elizabeth, who looked around in confusion as Robert quickly snatched up the silver device.

She was more alert now and exchanged quizzical glances with him. He was reluctant to receive calls on his cell for the express reason that it could be traced or tapped or otherwise alert their pursuers to their location. But after looking for the incoming number, Robert hesitantly flipped it open and held it to his ear.

"_I'm afraid I can't meet you for brunch,"_ came a hurried voice on the other end. _"I have to attend the funeral of a friend. He was ill, you see – in fact, he rather exploded. I apologize and hope to take a rain check. Good day."_

Elizabeth was frowning, clearly perplexed, and turned to Robert as he quickly snapped the phone shut. "What the heck was that ab-"

But Robert wasn't paying attention to her. Instead, he quickly shoved the papers inside the file and grabbed his jacket, pushing himself off the floor with his heels and abruptly flinging the door open. "Up – on your feet. Move!"

She got up without question, kicking their blankets and pillows into the corner and grabbing her weapon as she followed him out. Robert made a beeline for the massive windows, his knees on the thin cushions of the window seat and his hands braced on the sill as he peered out into the early morning.

It was still dark out there, and the cloudless sky was an inky navy blue in color. Elizabeth materialized at his side, unsure as to what was going on but remaining close to him regardless. Robert's wide topaz eyes quickly scanned the surrounding brush and empty two-lane highway until he saw what Bunbury had just alerted him to.

His fingertips found the dirty glass, tapping once. Elizabeth's sapphire orbs quickly followed the movement until she saw it, too. Three dark sports utility vehicles, all without their headlights on. The cars turned on to the dusty gravel lane that led to the estate, and Robert quickly ducked away from the windows.

His hard but worried eyes sought hers as he grabbed her arm, giving it a firm squeeze meant to be reassuring but at the same time, an imperative. "We need to go."

Without another word, he turned on his heel and pulled her along despite the fact that the petite brunette matched him step for step. They were already down the stairs and running toward the massive doors leading out to the verandah by the time the front door was kicked in, and the two companions soon disappeared into the night.

* * *

"…Mommy?" Young Michael Corinthos sat cuddled up in his mother's arms, his arm absently resting on her slightly swollen stomach.

She ran her fingers through his silky red hair, coughing into her free hand. "Yeah?"

"…Are we gonna die?"

His small voice resonated through the silent room, and both Sonny and Jason swung around immediately at the hesitant question. Their turbulent eyes met Carly's helpless hazel ones, and the blonde wrapped her arms tightly around her son.

"No, Mr. Man," she whispered fiercely in his ear, turning her face away only for a split second to let out another cough. "No way, baby. Everything's going to be fine, okay? Your dad and Uncle Jason are going to fix everything like they always do. You believe me, right? They'd never let anything bad happen to us. They've already got a plan – did you know that?"

Her strained attempts at reassurance didn't appear to register with the five-year-old, and Jason scrubbed a hand over his jaw as the child fisted a hand in his mother's green full-sleeved pajama top. Despite their best attempts, Michael had discovered their current situation. Unbeknownst to anyone, he had come downstairs for a glass of water when his coughing got the best of him and had sat hidden in the stairwell while Alcazar was standing in the living room.

The boy had disappeared into his room for hours after that, completely withdrawn from his family as they paced and worried downstairs. But he had surfaced a few hours later, his sober blue button eyes telling them instantly that he knew a great deal more than he was supposed to. And though it should have surprised them…it didn't. Michael had a way of discovering these things, albeit inadvertently. Only this time, it wasn't simply about a random trip below the border.

He scrunched his nose, curling closer to his mother's body. "…I'm glad Lizabeth isn't here…that she's safe. Uncle Luke and Lucky, too."

Carly closed her eyes, her hand resting on her son's head, and Jason turned away. It had been days, and he had yet to receive any word on Robert or Elizabeth – not to mention the Spencer men. Hopefully the first pair was still in Oxford…but knowing Robert, that wasn't likely. He just hoped that Michael was right, and that Elizabeth was safe no matter where she was.

The child sniffled just then, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand, and Sonny quickly stooped down to wipe his nose with a tissue. Jason sank wearily into one of the elaborately carved chairs that sat around the dining table, tugging absently on the collar of his t-shirt. Being locked in the penthouse was slowly driving him crazy.

He had been allowed to move back and forth between his own penthouse and Sonny's; he could even leave Harborview Towers altogether and descend into the town. But he hadn't done that yet, seeing as how the first time he attempted to do so, three armed guards in suits matched him step for step. Unwilling to traipse about aimlessly with three conspicuous and hostile guards in tow, he had changed his plans.

He spent most of his time in Sonny's penthouse, only returning to his when he needed to shower and change. Johnny and Max were long gone, as were the other guards that held shifts on their floor. Gone, also, was any contact that the two men had with the town; locked away in the Towers, they had no way of knowing the extent of the damage and its repercussions through Port Charles. It was no secret that the PCPD was quite inept when it came to anything other than half-baked accusations, but they were still holding out hope that Mac and Taggert realized that something was amiss.

There was nothing for them to do but sit and wait for Alcazar's next move or attempt to communicate with them. And now that Michael had discovered their situation, being contained in the penthouse with his soulful eyes and innocent questions was even more unbearable.

Thinking that he was teetering dangerously close to putting his fist through the wall, Jason's attention was thankfully averted when the front door was kicked open and Johnny and Max were tossed in, the momentum and force with which the guards pushed them causing the two young men to go sprawling to the floor.

"Johnny!" Michael yelped, happy and relieved to see his favorite bodyguard. "You're here!"

The twenty-three-year old Irishman picked himself up off the floor as Max did the same, and he quirked a forced half-smile at the little boy before turning back to his smirking attackers. Alcazar's men glanced around the room, making sure everything was in order, before glancing in Sonny's direction.

A barrel-chested guard with curly black hair pointed in the direction of the two newcomers. "For your comfort, Corinthos," he snickered, pleased with his sardonic little joke. "We were about to get rid of them when it was suggested that you might find some use for them."

The other guards laughed, clearly appreciating the irony of a conquered mob boss who did not even hold any power over his own lowly bodyguards any more. Still chuckling, they closed the door with a resounding slam, leaving Sonny and Jason to turn toward their employees in bewilderment.

Sonny's obsidian eyes were confused but relieved as Michael wrapped himself around Johnny's leg. "Johnny, Max – we thought…"

"Where the hell _were_ you?" Jason barked, cutting directly to the chase. "It's been almost three days-"

"We were out," Max interrupted, slicing a palm through the air in indication that the conversation was not to be continued. Jason's eyes bulged as that muscle in his jaw ticked dangerously, but to his credit, the enforcer kept quiet – more out of shock and anger over the impertinence of his employees than in response to Max's request.

"Hey, buddy," Johnny soothed, scooping the little boy into his arms. "How you doing?"

"I'm okay," the boy sniffled. "Did you know Mister Alcazar-"

"Yeah, yeah, buddy," the guard replied, patting the boy on the back. "I know. Hey, you sound like you're coming down with a cold."

Michael shrugged. "I dunno." He pouted slightly as his favorite bodyguard carried him across the room to deposit him into his mother's arms, but forgot his displeasure and soon cuddled up in the blonde's safe embrace.

Free now, Johnny shared a meaningful look with Sonny before he and Max fanned out across the room. The two mobsters looked on, a knowing glimmer growing in their confused eyes as the guards began to comb the mantle and upset the potted plants and framed pictures.

Jason cursed under his breath when he saw the Irishman successfully withdraw a small black device – a bug. The penthouse had been breached. Max quickly located another one and Sonny joined the search, finding another under the guardrail in the stairwell.

Michael opened his mouth to say something but Carly quickly held her fingers to his lips, warning her son silently not to say a word as the men searched. Max pointed upstairs, and he and Johnny quickly followed Sonny and Jason upstairs to resume their search.

Carly and Michael were still seated on the couch when the men finally returned, and the blonde's eyes widened at the number of bugs they had uncovered and ripped free. Johnny shook his head and tossed his findings onto Sonny's desk, glancing around the massive room that he knew was now finally secure.

"Okay," he started, turning back to his employers. "_Now_ we can talk."

Jason had forgotten his anger, but not his first question. "Where the hell were you two?"

"We were at the safe house, trying to get it ready for Mrs. C and Mikey," Max explained, forgetting to call the child by his full first name and instead using the one the guards had adopted as a nickname. "But we got a call from Seth in the lobby and he was trying to say something about danger when there were gunshots and the line went dead."

Johnny nodded seriously. "We figured something major had gone down at Harborview Towers so we left the safe house as it was. We ditched the car a few blocks away-"

"-And pretty much scoped out the town," Max continued, folding his hands at his waist. "It didn't take long to find out what had happened."

Sonny closed his eyes, rubbing a hand over his jaw and dropping his voice so that Michael and Carly couldn't hear. "How bad is it out there?"

The guards exchanged nervous glances, but now was not the time for the tact they so heavily employed in their boss' service. "Alcazar controls almost everything. The waterfront property, the shipping routes, the warehouses…everything."

"There were one or two secure routes," Max clarified. "We used them while we were hiding. But those were most likely taken by now, too."

"We tried to get as much information as we could," the Irishman continued hurriedly. "Like the fact that Alcazar had men on the inside bugging this penthouse before you even tried to fake your death. But we were found in the alley behind the docks near the Towers and brought upstairs. And now – we need to know something."

Sonny quirked a brow, his initial discomfort at speaking so familiarly with his guards having faded. "What?"

"Do you remember when you first moved in – when this was still Sean Donnelly's penthouse?" Johnny questioned, his brows furrowing when Sonny and Jason's lifted. "What? I know things."

"Yeah, I remember," the Cuban kingpin sighed. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Do you remember the escape hatch that used to be an elevator shaft?" Johnny tried again, twisting his hands together in thinly veiled anticipation. "The one that started in the master bedroom and went all the way down to the basement?"

Jason looked at Sonny, who was trying to remember. "…Yeah. Yeah, I remember it. It was in the back of the master bath, right in the towel closet there – I had it blocked up."

"Well, I hope for our sake that the contractors used cheap drywall," Johnny replied, his emerald eyes glittering with purpose as he exchanged looks with Max. "See, we've got a plan. Or, more like, we know someone who will."


	29. 29

**Note:** In case some of you didn't know, I'm in the process of moving so fic updates might be a bit sparse until mid-July.

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 29**

Sonny, Jason and Carly were all crammed into the master bathroom as Johnny and Max inspected the closet. They had been working for the past half hour and for the first time in a few days, Sonny and Jason had reason to hope.

Carly remained the most subdued out of the group, and Sonny had to coax her to sit down periodically to rest her feet. The dark circles under her eyes had grown and her hair was dull and limp, still gathered into a messy ponytail. Michael was no longer with her; the little boy's fever had spiked and they had given him a bath and put him to bed. He had been so worn out that he didn't even ask for his cartoons; instead, he instantly slipped into a listless, almost catatonic slumber.

Sonny stood close to his wife's side, shielding her from the dust and debris as Jason and the guards worked to take down the flimsy wall. It didn't prove very difficult, but paint dust clouded the room and he instantly helped Carly out, not wanting her to inhale it. She had insisted before on coming with them, but she acquiesced now and reclined on the bed while the rest waited for it to settle down.

Johnny dusted off his trousers and played with his rolled-up sleeves. He had already abandoned his suit jacket, as had Max, and the two guards were looking mighty pleased with themselves. Jason brushed some of the dust and debris out of his hair and poked his head back into the bathroom, surveying the stacks of piled towels and the destroyed wall.

"That oughta do it."

Max nodded, moving aside as Johnny took a look himself. "Are we ready? Do you need anything in here, Boss?"

Sonny shook his head, his hand falling on Max's shoulder and holding the guard back as he moved to join his friend. "We're fine – we've still got some food stocked in the kitchen. But, Max…maybe only one of you should go. It'll be too dangerous for both."

Johnny rolled down his shirtsleeves and made sure his shoes were tied. "I'm kinda with him on this one, Max. You stick around the house, and I'll be back as soon as I can."

The bodyguard nodded, clapping his best friend on the back as Johnny began to fully survey the abandoned elevator shaft that would serve as their escape route. "You sure you know what you're doing, man?"

"Yup," the Irishman nodded firmly, rubbing his hands together and sitting down at the edge of the gaping shaft. His feet found the first of the many rungs that led five stories down to the basement. "Luke told me exactly what to do. I'm good. Hang tight for a few hours, okay? Jason…Boss." His grave emerald eyes met those of Sonny's, and Johnny tipped his head. "Give my best to Mrs. C. This can't be easy for her…in her condition. If you need me to get her anything…"

Sonny shook his head, touched and impressed by the guard's loyalty. "We'll be fine, Johnny – if this plan of yours works, we'll be fine. Good luck."

Jason watched uneasily as the guard nodded and lowered himself into the hole, beginning to climb down the shaft. If he had his way, it would be him going down there instead of the guard – anything to get out of this penthouse and take an active role in the fight against Alcazar. But he knew he would be too easily missed, so he stood by and watched as Johnny disappeared.

Sonny let out a heavy sigh and looked from Max to Jason, each of them lost in thought as they wished their friend the best. When the two guards had finished debugging the house, one of the first things they told their boss after informing them of the situation outside was that they had run into Luke Spencer. He and Lucky were also in hiding, waiting for the right time to surface. They weren't entirely sure why the Spencer men were worried – after all, Alcazar wasn't _their_ enemy – but they knew better than to question Luke.

Max and Johnny had immediately settled on one thing: if they were going to gain an upper hand on Alcazar, they would need Luke's help. Sonny was leery of teaming up with his old business partner and friend again; after all, their relationship had ended badly with the fire at Jason's garage. But both of his guards told him that Luke had readily accepted their proposition and just needed a secure way to get in.

Once he heard that, Sonny was more willing to give his approval. Luke may have been a lot of things – a cheat, a liar, a crook – but his instincts were good and he had nine lives, always managing to get out of a bad scrape with considerable ease and grace.

After that, Johnny and Max had fully divulged their plan. The two of them would go out and find Luke again and sneak him in through the elevator shaft that had served Sean Donnelly so well during his years at Harborview. Since the former WSB head's secret room had long since been destroyed, Luke and Lucky would bring their own equipment – the guards weren't entirely sure what that was, exactly, but they knew the men kept talking about it – and they would proceed from there.

And now Johnny was on his way to recruit the Spencer men to their team, and the prospects looked surprisingly good. Sonny and Jason already had a tentative plan in the works and they were sure that they could hone and implement it with Luke's help and connections. It would be less conspicuous that way – Alcazar's men didn't care about the two Spencers, only the team of Morgan and Corinthos.

Jason had also agreed to it for a more selfish reason: it was his hope that the contact with Luke would establish a line of contact with Robert and Elizabeth, and he was becoming desperate to know whether they were safe or not, and what they were doing. So far, they hadn't surfaced in Port Charles and he hoped that Robert kept them out of the Eastern seaboard until this whole situation was cleared up. Alcazar knew of Elizabeth – he knew that Roscoe had once hired Hayes to kidnap her – and he wouldn't be above using her in his sick game of conquest. It would be best if they stayed away until their enemies were cleared out of town.

Sonny interrupted his enforcer's silent reverie by clearing his raw and scratchy throat. "We should probably go downstairs," he muttered quietly, his eyes downcast. "If Alcazar's men don't hear some noise, they might get suspicious."

Max nodded and followed his employers out of the room, casting one last look at the towel closet that his best friend had disappeared into. When he and Johnny wished that they had a little more to do in Corinthos' employ than fetch mail and open doors…this wasn't quite what they had in mind.

* * *

A few hours had passed and Johnny had returned alone, saying that Luke and Lucky were ready to make the move. All the men were gathered downstairs, pacing and occasionally indulging in a stiff drink from Sonny's stocked wet bar. The guards outside the door could be heard laughing quietly, the chuckles further muffled by the thick oak door.

The clock ticked obnoxiously from the mantle, signaling each second that passed until the arrival of the Spencers. Finally, the faint bell of the elevator was heard outside. The men all glanced at each other, but none moved. They could make out what sounded like Lucky's calm, reasonable voice talking with the guards, and then Luke's louder, more boisterous one.

Abruptly, the penthouse door was thrown open and the two Spencer men stepped in. Jason's eyes bulged but he masked his surprise quickly before Alcazar's men could notice. The guards and Sonny, too, had to control their features as they stared at their friends, both of whom were dressed in bright red jackets bearing the logo of a popular pizza chain, matching hats and all.

"Pizza's here," Luke called out, lifting up three large boxes as Lucky signaled to the buffalo wings, cheesy bread and soda he carried. "That'll be forty-five bucks, Mack."

The guards looked at each other, slightly confused, then one spoke to Sonny. "Corinthos – did you order this?"

A voice from atop the stairwell answered before Sonny could. "Oh, thank God," Carly exclaimed, hurrying down the steps and making a beeline for her uncle. "You brought everything, right? The M&M-pineapple-jalapeno one, and the olive-and-sardine one and-"

"Lady, we brought your entire crazy order," Luke pretended to grouse, playing along as he handed the boxes over to Carly. He made a show of dusting his palms off as Sonny quickly took the load from his pregnant wife. "What's the matter with you – your taste buds die, or something?"

"No," Carly sniffled, forcing tears to her eyes. "I'm pregnant. _You_ try dealing with cravings!"

"No thanks, ma'am," Lucky mumbled, handing Jason the rest of the order. "You paying cash for that?"

Johnny nodded and shoved a few bills in the boy's hand, taking the two-liter bottles of soda. "Is that it?"

Luke and Lucky nodded in unison, tipping their hats as they backed out of the penthouse. "Have a nice day."

"Nice digs, by the way," Luke called out as the guards escorted them to the elevator. "Hey, Bubba, no need to push! I'm telling you, we don't get paid nearly enough for this."

Alcazar's men glanced suspiciously around the penthouse, thrown a little off guard by the sudden arrival of the deliverymen, but when they found nothing out of the ordinary they closed the door once more.

Carly let out a sigh of relief and brushed her bangs out of her face. "Let's get those to the kitchen."

Jason quirked a brow at the blonde as she followed him and Sonny to the other room. "You do know that these don't have pizza in them, right?"

"Of course I know that," she snapped irritably. "I'm pregnant, Jason – not stupid. This is Luke we're dealing with here."

Max smirked, leaning against the doorway of the kitchen as the men put the boxes down. "What's all in there, anyway?"

"Laptop and wires," Sonny announced, opening one cardboard box and pulling out the lightweight device. "Nice one, too. Nicer than mine…"

Johnny snickered, pulling some more wires and a small black pouch from his container of buffalo wings. "This stuff. And in the bag…ah. Bugs. Wiretapping shit."

"Nice," Max allowed. "What you got, Jason?"

The enforcer lifted the top off his first box. "More wires, some transistors, and…whatever this is."

"And in the other?"

He moved the equipment out of the way and tossed the cardboard to the floor before flipping open the last one. "…Pizza."

"Yes!" Carly cheered, immediately snatching the box up from the table and placing it on the island. "Pineapple, too! How the hell did that crazy old geezer know?"

"I guess Luke's not as bad as you thought, huh, Mrs. C?" Max couldn't resist teasing, grinning when she shot him a dirty glare.

"Cork it, Max," she scolded, already cutting herself a piece. "One pizza doesn't make up for the fact that I share genes with that lunatic."

Sonny shook his head and turned to Johnny. "How long til he gets back up here?"

The twenty-three-year old Irishman glanced at his watch. "About half an hour, I'd say. He and Lucky are going to drop the truck off a block away and then hop onto the laundry truck that gets here on the hour. They'll get off in the basement and climb up through the escape hatch and get in through the master bathroom. We're looking at half an hour to forty minutes."

The Cuban nodded once, watching his wife out of the corner of his eyes as she greedily wolfed down the pizza. "Not bad. We've waited this long – what's forty minutes more?"

* * *

"Long time no see, stranger." Luke Spencer was grinning as he and Lucky stepped into the kitchen of Penthouse 4. "Bet you never thought you'd be doing _this_ again, huh?"

Sonny quirked a brow at the older man, rising out of his seat and firmly shaking Luke's hand. He nodded at Lucky, who barely glanced at him as he made a beeline to his precious technological gizmos. Jason and Johnny quickly moved out of the way as the young man began to set up immediately.

"Luke." The mob boss still held his old friend's hand in his firm grip. "Thank you."

Luke just tipped his head, clapping Sonny on the back as he withdrew his hand and moved to the center of the kitchen. "Jason – boys." His pale blue eyes fell on Carly who was sipping her soda and on her second slice of pineapple pizza. He smirked at her, flipping a piece of her blonde hair teasingly between his fingers as he walked over to his son's side.

"Caroline – thanks for the save," he winked, picking up an unopened box that sat forgotten on the table and handing it over to her. "You earned your cheesy bread."

The woman's eyes lit up as Sonny rolled his, and Luke watched her quickly open up the small box before he turned to his son. "How's it looking, Cowboy?"

"I think we're going to be fine," the boy murmured, searching for his adapter. "Sonny, can I jack your kitchen line?"

The mobster glanced at the cordless that sat on the counter and nodded hesitantly. "Sure. But…it's not secure. The number can be traced if-"

"Doesn't matter," Lucky cut in with a quick shake of his head as he got his laptop set up and running. "I'm going to be operating with an encrypted and secure server, so none of the activity will register."

The guards looked at Luke, who simply shrugged. "Kids these days – who the hell knows what they're talking about?"

The boy rolled his eyes, not bothering to remind his father that he was the same age as the two bodyguards. "Hand me the RD01-D480 chip."

Again, his father stared at him as if he was talking in tongues. "What the hell's the matter with you? Don't take that tone with me."

Jason watched humorlessly as Lucky rolled his eyes again and simply retrieved the chip himself. He tried to follow the young man's steps as he hooked up all the wires and set up the small modem and transistors to work with the computer, even wiring up a small printing device that worked with receipt paper, but when Lucky started clicking away on the keyboard, he was lost.

Instead, he turned to Luke. "What's the next step?"

"We connect with an isolated WSB server," Luke started, folding his arms over his chest. "It's dangerous only because it's illegal. If they find out that we've intercepted their signals, we'll have much more to worry about than just Alcazar."

"So why do it?" Max asked, eyeing Lucky uneasily as he hacked away with a look of fierce concentration hardening his features.

"Because we'll be in contact with Robert's colleagues," the boy muttered impatiently, as if he couldn't be bothered while he breached one of the top security systems available in the world. "The ones that he got me to reach while we were in the bunker and the others that he's probably meeting with now. We'll have a better idea of where Robert and Elizabeth are and how far they've gotten."

"Good," Jason sighed with relief, not noticing how Carly rolled her eyes.

But Lucky was barely paying attention to anyone or anything in the room except his elaborate circuitry. "The only reason that this is such a sensitive server to intercept is because it contains all the codenames and locations and the classified covert ops going on right now. I can pretty much print off a location of all the WSB special agents with their codenames and identities right now. But it'll help us, again, in keeping tabs on Robert and getting in touch with some of his colleagues if we need to."

"We'll also use it to keep tabs on the one that's riding your hump," Luke added, pointing at Sonny. "And also to relay that information to other concerned parties that might be in the know. Alcazar might have caught the team of Morgan and Corinthos with its pants down, but he hasn't met the Spencer men yet."

* * *

She had lost count of how many consecutive hours she'd been awake. All she knew was that her body was operating on pure adrenaline and she hoped to God she didn't crash soon.

The ride into Germany on a freight train had been a luxury as of late, but Robert had told her not to get too comfortable. Somehow, Helena managed to stay on their tails. Her henchmen dogged their steps, following them from Oxford to Paris and then from Paris to Mannheim-Ludwigshafen, which was where they currently were. It had gotten so bad that they had to hop off their initial ride to Germany and onto another one, taking a brief detour to Ghent, Belgium.

There, they had actually managed to get some food and a few hours' worth of sleep in a national garden. But someone tipped off the police and they were chased out like dogs. Apparently, Helena's goons had intercepted the signal and caught them unaware in a dark alley. They ran faster than they ever had before and scaled quite a few fences before they lost the guards.

Knowing that it was no longer safe to stay in the country, they had made plans to leave that very night. They caught a bus to Liége, a large city to the southeast of Brussels and thought they were safe. However, they were not halfway to the town when they discovered that a suspicious flock of dark cars was following the bus.

Not wanting to endanger innocent civilians, they had ducked off the bus at the next stop and crept into an abandoned shop, killing a few hours before they felt it was safe to venture out once more.

This time, they flagged down a bus to Luxembourg and spent part of the day hanging about a hip little club that the young crowd frequented. Finally, they happened upon a sleepy little train depot used mainly to service freight trains, and had stealthily boarded a freighter to Germany.

They had hopped off in Mannheim-Ludwigshafen, their long-intended destination. Robert had been uneasy about their pursuers, but the hours slipped away and still there was no disturbing occurrence. They stayed longer in Mannheim than they had in any other city, even Oxford, but that was because they had important business that could only be taken care of in that single town.

They slept each night at the freight lot by the train station, stealing into the abandoned and empty carts like many of the homeless persons that frequented the area. During daytime they'd venture out to meet with Robert's colleague that was assisting them with their project and to bring food back to their humble living quarters.

Bathing and clothes had been a slight problem in the past, but not so at this particular junction of their journey. They discarded the clothes they had and changed into a fresh pair, stowing away an extra pair of pants and a sweater in Robert's new backpack. They used the showers at their contact's place of employ to clean up, and it was working out quite nicely for them.

Robert, however, wanted to leave as soon as possible. Once their business was finished and they had what they came to Germany for, they'd be on their way to Spain to meet with another contact that had gotten in touch with them and informed them that he was connected to Luke and Lucky and might be able to help.

Elizabeth was looking forward to the opportunity to tell Jason herself that she was safe and unharmed, and Robert was looking for the answers he was sure Luke would be able to provide on the home front. From what they understood, things were dangerous in Port Charles and Luis Alcazar, the head of an elaborate arms dealing organization, had pretty much seized control of everything and was using the shipping routes for his own mysterious purposes. Hopefully, Luke and Sonny would be able to tell them more about that.

And now, as they quickly strode down the dark streets, making sure to keep out of the streetlights and away from busy intersections, they were finally ready to depart. The plan was to return to the train depot and hop a freighter north to an airfield where a plane was waiting to take them to Madrid. After they got what they needed there, it would be time to take on Helena.

Her palms were clammy as she tightened her grip on the small black satchel she held close to her side, underneath the warm black vest she had long since donned over a black sweater. Robert walked next to her, his strides long and determined and she had to trot to swallow up the same distance as he did.

The buildings gradually disappeared, giving way to a few dilapidated shanty establishments and the sleepy little train depot crouched three blocks away. Their conversation had dwindled to nothing, but Robert and Elizabeth both glanced at each other as the abandoned freight cars also came into view. One of those cars held various personal effects of their and as soon as they retrieved those, they'd hop the freighter that arrived on the half-hour and be on their way to the airfield.

The agent quickened his steps, his hand naturally finding itself resting on Elizabeth's back as he urged her along. They had been so lucky for the past few days in Mannheim-Ludwigshafen, and he would have loved to be able to make it out the city with the same luck still intact.

"Almost home free, doll," he murmured, this time grabbing her hand and pulling her along the last block until they stood before an array of unpainted and rusted freight cars. The stones and gravel crunched underneath their boots as they began to walk toward their own, each one so lost in their hopes of making it out without being chased and soon being home in Port Charles that neither noticed the other footsteps until they were almost upon them.

Abruptly, Elizabeth stopped. Her wide eyes found Robert's and the agent stopped as well, his ears craned as he picked up the stealthy steps of boots and the murmured Greek voices. Pressing a finger unnecessarily to his lips, he wrapped an arm around Elizabeth's waist and pulled her out of view. The two of them stood behind the width-side of a large freight car and simply listened, trying to pinpoint a location on the voices.

Robert exchanged glances with the girl at his side and slowly peered out from the side of the freighter. But no sooner had he scanned the aisle and found it empty than Elizabeth's hand was gripping his shirt, lightly pushing at his shoulder, and he quickly sidestepped, pulling her along with him, so that they were both concealed along the length-side of the cart.

Elizabeth let out a silent breath of relief as Helena's henchmen passed along the next aisle, right where they were standing, and looked up at Robert. He grimly eyed their own cart, standing a few rows away, and knew easily that they'd never make it. His pale blue eyes darted around from car to car as he frantically searched for an escape route that wouldn't end up with the two of them riddled with bullets.

Quietly, he and Elizabeth tiptoed down the aisle and darted behind another car, each frantically searching for a way out. The agent's topaz eyes landed on a small fleet of sports utility vehicles that the henchmen had used for transportation at the same time that the brunette at his side pointed to them. The cars were a few dozen feet away, but were their best chance at a getaway. The voices were close, and Robert turned to Elizabeth, silently mouthing a single word: _Run._

She nodded once, and on his signal the two made a break for it. Gravel flew from their heavy footfalls and a small trail of dust followed in their wake as they raced toward the cars. The henchmen stopped talking, hearing the racket, and quickly shouted at each other to halt and find out where it was coming from. The detective and the agent ran as fast as they could, the echo of the henchmen's footsteps pounding in their ears. Robert pointed to a specific car and Elizabeth quickly followed suit, having to skid to a stop and dart around to the passenger side.

The henchmen were still trying to find them in the maze of railway cars as Robert broke through the glass with his elbow, quickly unlocking his door and Elizabeth's with one good tug. Without wasting any time, they hopped into the vehicle and immediately sat low.

Elizabeth's hands closed tightly around the small black satchel she had as Robert made quick work of hotwiring the vehicle, and a bullet shattered the glass in the rearview mirror just as Robert got the car to roar to life.

Her blood was rushing through her veins as they tore out of the depot, the gravel causing the vehicle to skid slightly as they pealed away. Robert gripped the steering wheel compulsively, spinning it around like a madman as they burst into the Mannheim streets.

Horns blared, brakes screeched and pedestrians and motorists alike yelled vicious words as they sped through an intersection on a red light, narrowly missing a group of young women crossing at the crosswalk. Elizabeth gripped the handrail, too afraid to close her eyes, and simply did her best not to screech every time Robert took a sharp turn.

The agent cussed under his breath when he glanced at the rearview. Helena's goons could be seen not too far behind, trying to get through traffic in their pursuit of the necklace. "Hang on," he called out to Elizabeth as he gunned the accelerator. "And try to maintain control over your bodily functions."

The brunette steeled her jaw, biting her tongue to keep from _thanking_ him for the particular sentiment. Robert cut off a new Benz and sped on through, glancing in his mirror as the horns blared behind him. Helena's men were gaining ground, and he knew he had to do something before they tried to run him off the road.

His hand tightened around the wheel as he spied a turn to the autobahn – two lines going, two lines oncoming. Abruptly, he jerked the steering wheel to the right and turned on, keeping an eye on the oncoming lanes as he maintained a steady speed in his.

"Elizabeth."

She looked at him, but Robert wouldn't take his eyes off the oncoming lanes of traffic as he decreased his speed slightly, obviously gearing up for his next move.

"Hold tight."

She did as she was told, hearing the faint trace of worry and uncertainty in his voice. This time, the brunette actually closed her eyes tightly, hearing Robert take a deep breath.

And then suddenly, his right hand reached out for the handbrake as he turned the car sharply to his left, directly into oncoming traffic. The brakes squealed and the smell of burning rubber filled her nostrils but still, Elizabeth refused to open her eyes. She prepared herself for impact when she heard many cars slam on their brakes and their horns, and felt as if she were spinning in a circle.

Robert had turned the car sharply into the oncoming lanes and with expert control over the handbrake, had managed to execute a perfect U-turn. Helena's guards sped by in the opposite lanes as he picked up speed and raced back in the same direction from where they had come.

This time, the agent glanced to his right before quickly returning his gaze to the road. "Elizabeth – you can open your eyes now, doll."

She was pale as a sheet but otherwise unscathed. Her eyes stayed fixed on the road as he turned off into town once more, now driving slightly slower and with more regards for safety, not to mention pedestrians.

"In the clear," he muttered, his hands resting at the ten and two on the wheel. "Now we can-"

Elizabeth's eyes widened when the car interrupted him as it stalled slightly and made strange gurgling noises as they drove, jerking along the packed road. "What was that?"

"This bloody car – it's cactus," he swore, pounding the wheel but quickly easing up when it sputtered some more. "Oh, it's no good to us."

"What do we do?" she asked, glancing around for smaller side streets. "We have to ditch it."

"I'll turn out," he answered, following her gaze and turning onto a one-way road. "We'll make a run for it and find some other transportation."

"How about the train?" Elizabeth suggested as they rolled into a dark alley. "They think we've got the car – they won't expect us to go back."

"Good idea – get out." Robert left the car running and hopped out, making sure that Elizabeth was with him before they took off down the alley, running as far as it would allow them to.

A tall mesh fence loomed at the end and the two hit it running, leaping on to it and gripping the wires as they scaled it. Robert was the first one over but had to climb down to the bottom while Elizabeth was able to jump off halfway to the ground. Mindful of his knees, he stepped down onto the pavement and kept running, taking a few sharp turns until he felt like he was heading toward the depot.

"Where to now?"

"This way," he responded with slight hesitation, leading her down the length of two blocks. "Turn left."

But soon enough, his sense of direction seemed to him increasingly precarious. Elizabeth slowed down to a trot and then skidded to a halt when the agent stopped at an intersection of the alleys, looking around himself in confusion. She bit her lip and glanced up at the small apartments that surrounded them. There were potted plants in a few windows, along with some laundry drying on a fire escape here and there. Fidgeting slightly, she waited as Robert continued to look around.

"North," he mumbled to himself. "I know the train station is north, because we'll catch a straight line to the airfield that way…"

The brunette laughed nervously, tugging on the fabric of her sleeve. "I guess asking for directions wouldn't be such a great idea, huh?"

"North," Robert continued to murmur. "Which bloody way is north?"

Elizabeth shrugged, growing uneasy from their lack of movement. The car was stashed about a mile and a half away; if the henchmen found it, they wouldn't be far behind either. "Maybe we should-"

"Shhh," the agent hissed, closing his eyes and letting his arms fall limply at his side. "Give me a minute, doll, won't you?"

The brunette watched uneasily, her fingers idly tracing the beavertail pattern on the butt of her weapon. The aging detective stood still and loose, his arms slack at his sides and his face slightly angled up. His brows were furrowed in concentration, his thin lips pinched into a soft frown.

She shuffled her feet awkwardly, watching as he slowly shifted his weight and turned, as if drawn magnetically in the direction of a large dumpster and the few stray cats scrounging around in front of it. He stopped, pausing only momentarily before he twisted his torso a few degrees to the right and then paused again, lingering there.

Finally, the agent opened his eyes and lifted a hand toward her, curling his fingers inward in a gesture to follow. "This way."

She snapped her mouth shut as he started running down the alleyway he was now facing, then took off after him. It took some effort on her part to catch up but once she had, she quirked a glance his way as they ran.

"How – the hell – did – you know – to do that?"

The agent grinned, a chuckle rumbling through his rapidly rising and falling chest. "Old trick, doll. Learned it from – the Ancient One. The Asian Quarter – Woo Clan – Black pearls. You know the business."

"Sure – what do they have – to do with it?"

"Chi," he responded simply, remaining quiet for a moment as he focused on correcting his breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth, slow and steady. "The body's natural energy – aligns with the magnetic force of the earth – always points north. I just – waited for my body to – align with the force. I'll have to – teach you sometime."

She smiled to herself, flexing her fingers in preparation when she saw the wire fence looming up ahead. When she had left Jason's penthouse a few weeks ago, she had planned on some personal downtime before starting a new life for herself. This wasn't exactly what she had in mind at that point, but as Elizabeth leapt up onto the fence and began scaling it with the detective at her side, she reflected that all in all, it certainly wasn't a bad way to go.


	30. 30

**Note: **Sonny and Jason might be gummy bear mobsters on the show, but not here. They do in fact deal drugs. Also, you will HATE me for the way I ended this chapter.

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 30**

Luke leaned against the door to the kitchen, his blue eyes resting on his niece's slumbering form. She had insisted on staying with them as they worked, but had soon been unable to sit on the stool any longer. Sonny had helped her to the couch and the blonde had curled up into the cushions and fallen fast asleep. Michael was still down for the count upstairs…and Luke didn't like it.

He glanced over his other shoulder at his son and friends, trying to relieve the pressure in his neck. Sonny looked up, catching his gaze, and Luke took advantage of the moment.

"Is she looking a little pale to you?" he asked quietly, his soft voice concealing his concern.

Sonny sighed, averting his gaze. Dressed now only in his wrinkled trousers and an olive green dress shirt that he had rolled up to his elbows, the mobster appeared more casual than before but there was no denying the tension and anxiety written into the creases of his face. He rubbed the corners of his mouth with his index and thumb before finally answering.

"She's tired," he offered quietly. "This hasn't been easy for her, and she's trying to hold herself together…for Michael."

"-I know that," Luke cut in brusquely, stuffing his hands into his pockets and pushing himself abruptly away from the wall. Anxiously, he circled around Lucky like a caged panther, his hard eyes trained on the boy's fingers as they flew over the keypad. "I know all that. But she looks…forget it. You're right – I probably wouldn't look so great either if I had a bun in the oven."

Lucky snorted, taking a brief moment to rub his eyes. "You'd be like that guy in _Junior_."

"You mean the governor of California, son?" Luke asked dryly, clasping his hands behind his back before finally moving to stand near Jason and Max. "Okay, all pregnant men aside, what have you got so far? Do we have any idea where the May-December team went after Paris?"

The boy nodded, sliding a small notepad across the table to his father. "Yeah, they hit up Levitte in Paris at the hospital, then took a couple detours before meeting up with Osborne in Germany."

"Osborne – code name or surname?"

"Code," came the automatic reply. "Surname Kurtz."

"Where in Germany?"

"Around Duseldorf – the industrial municipality." Lucky tapped a few keys, then sat back as his small printer hummed to life. "Okay, I think I've got a lock down on the current stats on Alcazar. I'm not sure how up-to-date these are, but they're the best we can hope for right now."

Jason grasped the roll as it emerged from the printer, squinting down at the stats. Letting out a low whistle, he motioned for Sonny to take a look. "His numbers are higher than we thought."

"I've got some more stuff coming through the server," Lucky spoke up, pressing the heels of his hands to his red eyes. "Reports from Dad's friends in the area – they finally came through."

Johnny and Max exchanged uneasy glances but stayed silent, standing against the island in the kitchen. Sonny waited impatiently as the reports came through, and he and Jason remained at Lucky's side as they studied the damage.

Luke had resumed watching his niece, and after a long moment cast a bland glance in their direction. "How bad is it?"

"He's got all of the shipping routes," Sonny growled. "The warehouse properties, too – all of them. The waterfront's gone."

"He's already got them stocked," Jason added quietly, unable to mask his amazement. "He's got his guards already transporting his goods through our network. And there's a lot of activity on the routes, specifically."

"…So he's moving stuff?" Lucky asked, scratching his head. "Like what? Drugs? Weapons?"

"Weapons are more likely," Sonny replied honestly, bracing one hand flat on the table. It still felt slightly awkward to talk of the business so openly with his former associate, but he had few alternatives left other than a full disclosure policy with the Spencer men. "Alcazar's an arms dealer from Spain. That's what he's built his entire empire on: dealing weapons and making sure they get into the right hands."

"If he's moving heat, it makes sense that he'd use Port Charles," Luke spoke up, crossing his arms over his chest. "We're situated right plunk in the middle of the nowhere but have quick access to all the important parts of the area. We're a stone's throw from New York City, and you two have control of the quickest and safest route straight down to the Atlantic. You've got trails going up into Canada and toward the upper East coast and a few routes heading toward Pennsylvania, right?"

Jason nodded reluctantly, watching as Luke stroked his light beard.

"If he wants to get his goods fanned out across the area…then it looks like he's fixing to take over your entire organization permanently." The old man's hard topaz eyes met Jason's without reservation. "He's in no mood to negotiate. He already has what he wants. And that means that things just got a little bit worse in your neck of the woods."

Sonny ran a hand through his dark curls and resumed pacing, unaware of the concerned gazes of his guards. "There has to be a way out of this."

Luke pinched his lips together, knowing that his old friend was murmuring his anxieties about the safety of his family. "There is. But we can only find that out when we get more information on the guy."

"It doesn't make any sense," Lucky suddenly spoke up, clearing his throat when he saw that all eyes in the room had come to rest on him. "The timing's all off. Am I the only one that thinks the timing's off?"

He looked around, taking Jason's quirked brow as his only signal to continue. "Even if Alcazar had this place bugged before the funeral…the timing's all off. If he knew what was going on in these four walls, he'd know that your organization was strongest right when Sonny came back. You took that time to restructure, cement a few valuable deals that would have only gone down in the event of Jason assuming total control of the empire…you solidified your business."

"So why strike now?" Luke finished for his son. "Even if Alcazar got a hold of all these men and all this capital, why not wait until Corinthos had let his guard down a little?"

"Exactly," Lucky nodded, knowing from the look in his father's eyes that the old man was already on to something. Instead, he turned to Sonny, Jason and the guards. "It would have been easier if he had waited – even for a week or two. He wouldn't have had to expend all the manpower, or unload as much money to take you two down. He could have easily taken advantage of the buildup of problems that would probably come to a head a few weeks after you came back from the dead. Am I right?"

Sonny and Jason looked at each other, knowing full well the types of problems that Lucky was talking about but at the same time not wanting to give too much away about future territory disputes and the like. "Yeah, that's a pretty good thought."

"So that's why I say the timing's all off." Lucky brushed his blonde hair back from his forehead, his lips puckered in thought. "Obviously, he wouldn't have been able to do any of this without the vast resources you say he suddenly amassed. And I think that he definitely wouldn't have done it the way he did it unless…he knew there was no way he was going to lose. Unless money and men were of no consequence to him."

"Unless," Luke interjected quietly, sliding down onto the wooden bench around the rectangular kitchen table, "he was operating on a strict timeline."

* * *

"All right, men." Luke Spencer rubbed his hands together, glancing between his son and Jason. "How do we do this? Do we pick straws to see who gets to go quietly into the good night?"

"It shouldn't be one person, Dad," Lucky told him, settling his hands on his hips. "If we're going to try to bug one of Alcazar's men's main hang-outs, one man isn't going to cut it. I think we should-"

"Woah, who's we, Quick Draw?" his father asked, placing a hand firmly on the boy's shoulder. "You're not going anywhere – no one knows how to operate that pile of circuitry except you."

The young man rolled his eyes. "Dad, look, it's not-"

"It's beeping," Sonny supplied helpfully, pointing suspiciously at the laptop. "Something just came up."

Lucky swore under his breath and took his seat at the kitchen table once more, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he intercepted and filed the signal. Luke turned to Jason, his back toward the kitchen door, and didn't notice that his niece was now finally wide-awake and thirsty.

"We know that Alcazar's got a good handle on Pier 52," the older man informed the enforcer. "His men use the offices on the upper floors as their lounge area and we're sure to score some good information if we can just get in for a second and place a bug. Since you know the back exits and all that, I figure that we can-"

"You're going to bug the warehouse?" Carly's small voice had Luke instantly whipping around, and the older man scowled when he saw his niece standing next to the kitchen sink with an empty glass of water in her hands.

"Caroline, this isn't-"

"No, Luke," she hissed in reply, slamming the glass down on the counter. "I asked a question. For once, someone fucking answer me."

Jason scrubbed a hand over his jaw, glancing discreetly at Sonny. "…Yeah. We're going to try to bug the warehouse where Alcazar's men are gathered."

The woman's wide hazel eyes darted back and forth between her husband, her uncle, and her best friend. Johnny and Max chose to stay out of it and instead retreated to the safety of Lucky's corner.

"So let me get this straight," she started in a low, quiet voice that did nothing to shield her apprehension. "You and Luke are going to go out in the middle of the night into a town that's _crawling_ with men that want you dead and you're going to try to bug their headquarters and get back here without being shot?"

"That's the plan," Luke responded cheerfully, pretending to make for the door. "Don't wait up, dear."

He stopped in his tracks when Carly let out a frustrated groan, running her hands through her limp hair. "You're crazy, you know that, Luke? You're completely crazy. But go ahead – risk your life. Go. Just leave Jason out of it. He doesn't have to die just because-"

"Darlin', I'm only here in the first place because your boys were caught with their pants down," Luke reminded her in a gentle but cold voice. "Let's not think we're in a better position than we actually are."

"Carly." Sonny moved past Jason and Luke, his arms outstretched as he reached for his furiously terrified wife. It had been a mistake to let her sit with them while they worked – she in turn had worked herself up and it wasn't good for her. Already, she was trembling violently and looked as if she were about to be ill.

"Hey." He gently wrapped a hand around her waist, pulling her to his side. Tremors ran through her body as she clutched his shirt from the back, her eyes slightly dazed now. "Look, everything's going to be okay. We're going to take care of this, I promise you. We'll be careful, but we'll do what has to be done."

She wasn't responding to him, so Sonny gently grasped her chin and tilted her face up so that her bright gaze met his. "Look. I trust Luke. I've trusted him since before I even met you. He's helped me in the past and I know he'll do his best to help now. You just gotta trust him, too, okay? Can you do that?"

Carly swallowed roughly but gave no response. With a sigh, Sonny tightened his grip on her waist, waiting as Jason and Luke moved aside before leading her toward the door. "Come on, I'll get you upstairs and you can- Carly!"

Luke and Jason instantly lunged forward to help when the tall blonde collapsed to her knees, supported only by her husband's arm around her waist. Sonny took her arm and looped it around her neck as Luke half-picked her up from the floor, then slid his hand under her knees and lifted her up.

The mobster frowned when he hefted her up, her head falling against his shoulder. He adjusted her slightly in his arms, not liking how light she felt. Luke quickly snagged a bottle of water from the cabinet and stuck it in Sonny's open hand, his worried eyes meeting Jason's.

"She's light – too light," Sonny murmured, adjusting his wife's limp form in her arms. She was conscious but weak, and he hurriedly made his way out of the kitchen and toward the staircase. With a little luck, he'd be able to get her to bed without Michael waking up and seeing her in this state.

"At least she's breathing," Luke remarked wryly, rubbing his hands together anxiously as he and Jason waited at the foot of the stairs. "Damn it, I _said _that she didn't look good."

Johnny and Max approached uneasily, their hands stuffed in their pockets, and Lucky followed close behind.

"She gonna be okay?" Lucky asked, looking worriedly up at the dark stairwell. "I mean-"

"She'll be fine, Cowboy," his father assured him. "Caroline's a Spencer, whether either of us wants to admit it or not. She's just a little weak right now, but she'll fight it out."

Johnny nodded, frowning at the floor. "Look, Luke, Jason…Max and I were thinking…"

"We think that we should be the ones that bug the warehouse," the Italian picked up, his voice confident but his dark eyes belying his apprehension. "Let's face it, we're just no-name guards. None of Alcazar's men will recognize us, except the ones that are parked outside the front door. Some might even think we work for him. We'll be in and out, no problems, you know?"

"And we know the warehouse as well as Jason does," Johnny pointed out. "So you don't need him to go along and point the way. We can do this on our own – we've had tons of experience with bugs and wiretapping."

Jason had been watching the two guards during their impromptu oratory, and the enforcer pursed his lips in thought. There was no denying the conviction and loyalty with which the two men spoke. Though they were young, they were right when they said that they had training with wire tapping, and they were in and out of the warehouse almost as often as he was. They had already proved themselves extremely trustworthy and dependable by risking their lives to return from the safehouse and help out by bringing Luke over, and he didn't doubt their capabilities.

"All right," he agreed quietly, not bothering to wait for Sonny to give his approval. "You two will go to Pier 52 and bug the offices on the third floor."

Lucky licked his lips, motioning the men to the kitchen. "Fine. Okay, guys, I'm going to make sure that you have your standard wiretapping gear – I just need to link them back to my connection and we should be set…"

His voice trailed off as the young man disappeared into the kitchen, and Sonny came down to find Luke and Jason standing quietly by the dining table. His obsidian eyes moved from his best friend to his former associate as he absently tucked one of his loose shirttails into his pants. "What happened?"

Jason glanced over from Luke to his boss, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. "You can tell Carly that it's okay – I'm not going anywhere tonight. Johnny and Max are."

* * *

Carly was up and able to walk about – albeit slowly – by the time Max and Johnny finally climbed up through the elevator shaft into the master bathroom. The two guards found their employers in Michael's room as Sonny pressed his palm to the little boy's forehead. Immediately, they knew something was wrong.

Sonny exchanged worried glances with Carly, who was arranging a cold compress and gently set the wet towel down on her son's forehead when her husband removed his hand. "He's burning up."

"I've been giving him cough syrup every six hours," the blonde murmured, stroking the boy's silky red hair as Jason looked on. She tried unsuccessfully to mask a cough but finally gave in, gagging slightly as she coughed into her fist. "Sonny, we need to get him to the hospital."

Her husband nodded, looking up and noticing his bodyguards for the first time. "Pack him a bag," he instructed his wife quietly as he and Jason moved to join Johnny and Max. "I'll make the arrangements."

"Is it done?" Jason asked in a low voice as the men filed down the hall.

The bodyguards glanced at each other and nodded in unison. "It's done, Jason. Lucky should have already started to get a feed in about twenty minutes ago."

Sure enough, the youngest Spencer man sat with his headphones securely in place by the time they got back down to the kitchen. Luke was with him, wearing a matching set and squinting at a point on the table as his son made the last setting adjustments to his transcription software.

"Is it any good?" Sonny asked, clasping his hands together.

Luke nodded absently, his hand gently braced on one earphone. "Oh, yeah, it's getting good. We'll keep you posted, man."

"Okay – do that. We…We need to get Michael to the hospital," Sonny informed his old friend quietly. That got Luke's attention, and the older man left the wiretapping to his son and looked up, staring at the mobster from across the kitchen.

"The kid take a turn?"

Sonny nodded grimly. "Yeah, his fever spiked again. There's plenty of food and water, and you can help yourself to anything else in the house. I'll try to be back as soon as possible, but-"

"Don't worry about it," Lucky replied quietly, still clicking away with his eyes glued to his monitor. "We'll handle things here and call if we get something big."

"Just go," Luke agreed, sitting down next to his son once more. "Take care of your kid."

Sonny nodded and stepped out of the kitchen, followed closely by Jason. Carly could be heard closing her bedroom door upstairs as the two men approached the front door of the penthouse and pulled it open, revealing a group of smug bodyguards who all looked up in annoyance.

"What do ya want, Corinthos?" one of them growled, straightening to his full height as the others glowered in like fashion.

"My son is sick and we need to get him to the hospital," the mob boss replied quietly, his hard eyes boring into the other man's quizzical ones. "If you can get a car ready-"

But the bodyguard was already shaking his head. "I don't think so, Corinthos – we got personal orders to keep you hear for the rest of the night. Your kid's fine – no one needs to go anywhere."

A muscle in Jason's jaw ticked, but he knew enough to stand down before he made this any worse. Sonny, however, soon proved that he had lost that self-control. Jason didn't have time to pull his friend back before the mobster stepped up to the bodyguard and fisted his hands in his lapel, hauling the slightly taller man closer to him.

"My son is sick," he growled out, unaware of being pulled back by his best friend. In his protective outrage, he didn't even hear the other men pull out their weapons. "And you're going to-"

"Get back inside the damn penthouse, Corinthos," a barrel-chested guard growled, coming up to his friend's side. The guard Sonny had grabbed roughly pushed him back, and the kingpin would have fallen had Jason not already grasped him by the arm. "Sit down and shuddup – you ain't goin' nowhere tonight."

With that, he pulled the door shut and let it slam in Sonny's face, rattling the expensive paperweights on his desk. The mobster stared in shock at the now closed door, and Jason winced when he heard Carly coming down the stairs.

He turned, seeing that his best friend's eyes were locked on the back of her husband. Numbly, she tossed a small tote bag onto the couch, defeated. "…They're not letting us go, are they?"

Sonny clasped his neck with his hand, his head bowed, and kept his back to his wife. "Not tonight."

* * *

"Boss, there's something else you need to know." Johnny O'Brien loosened his already loose tie, finally giving up and wrenching the silk noose free before flinging it onto the counter. Max stood next to him, a half-full glass of scotch held in his vice-like grip.

Jason and Sonny looked over at the kitchen island, and even Luke turned around from his seat next to Lucky at the kitchen table. "Go ahead."

The twenty-three year old Irishman pursed his lips together, his emerald eyes hard and cold. "We scoped out the rest of the town while we were out and…it's not good."

"The people of Port Charles definitely know that something's up," Max chimed in quietly, nodding to himself. "They have to."

Luke quirked a brow. "What's going on outside?"

"Your family's being watched, for one," Johnny answered heavily. With his eyes trained on the scrap of silk in his hands, he didn't notice that Luke failed to appear surprised. "They've been searching for you and Lucky. Dr. Spencer and Dr. Jones are under surveillance – according to what we heard, they're practically under lock-down at the hospital. Lucas is at the Brownstone; he's fine, as far as we know. Alcazar's got a couple guards there as well to keep things…under order."

Sonny scratched the back of his head, his confused and weary gaze meeting that of his best friend's. "Why the hell is Alcazar tailing Luke's family?"

Jason looked over at the older Spencer for answers but as usual, Luke wasn't giving away any answers. "Any idea?"

"Beats me," the older man shrugged evasively, clasping his hands in his lap as Lucky clicked away on his keypad and pretended that he was unable to hear the conversation. "Maybe Alcazar's smarter than we thought and he figured that Spencers were just as dangerous as you two…if not more so."

Max licked his lips, rolling the glass between his hands. The amber liquid threatened to slosh off the rim and onto his fingers, but the guard paid it no heed. "Mac's family's also being tailed."

Luke at least had the decency to blink, professing a small modicum of surprise to the untrained acquaintance. "The Scorpios?"

Johnny nodded jerkily. "Yeah. The girls are safe with Felicia, as far as we know, and Mac's holed up in the PCPD trying to figure out what the hell is going on."

Sonny snorted bitterly, beginning to pace in a wide circle around the safe haven of his kitchen that was now being hijacked by a couple of hackers and used as a strategic base. "Good luck."

Jason was watching Luke carefully, trying to discern the older man's reaction to the news that his family and Robert's family were being targeted by Alcazar as well. But he had long since fallen out of practice when it came to reading the evasive old man, and his instincts didn't serve him anywhere near as well as they usually did.

Luke appeared wistful, and the impulsive jiggling of his knee was the only movement that gave away his apprehension. His eyes were faraway and distant, trained on the far wall of the kitchen as he thought about the families that Alcazar had already endangered.

"The only thing…" he started softly, his eyes drooping half-shut as he absently glanced over at his oldest child. "The only thing to be thankful for right now is that Laura and Lulu are nowhere near this."

It seemed to Jason a strange thing to say, and when he looked over at the guards, he instantly knew that they felt the same way.

"…You really think Alcazar would try to go after your wife and daughter?" Johnny asked hesitantly, snapping his mouth shut when Luke abruptly stood from his seat.

"He's going after me and my son, isn't he?" the older man snapped, running a hand through his thinning hair. Sonny moved aside as he stepped toward the window over the sink that overlooked the harbor. In the distance, twinkling lights exposed the location of Alcazar's phantom yacht on the inky black water.

"No," Luke murmured, his voice hazy and distant once more. "No, it's good that Laura and Lulu can't be hurt by this again. It's good."

"…Do you think she's safe?" Sonny questioned in a quiet, hesitant tone. "If either one needs extra protection, I'm sure we can find a way-"

But the older man was shaking his head. "No," he chuckled bitterly, bracing his hands on the edge of the counter. "If _I _can't get in to see my own wife, no one else can either."

Max and Johnny quirked a glance at the other before the Irishman hesitantly spoke up. "…And your other kid?"

Again, Luke shook his head. "Lulu's tucked away in a cozy little boarding school in England, and she has excellent protection from an associate of mine in the area. He'd die before he let anything happen to her. She's there under a false identity, anyway. No, she's safe."

Clearing his itchy throat, the old man turned away from the counter and now braced his back against it, his head tilted downward toward the floor. When he spoke, his voice carried new conviction, but also a new and almost overbearing gravity. "No, it's good that they're outside of this mess."

His apologetic blue eyes met Sonny's grim obsidian orbs as Luke reflected that his former associate's loved ones weren't stowed away safely in Europe but in fact upstairs and ill. "It makes what we have to do just a shade easier."

* * *

"My name is Barbara Spencer, and I _need_ to see my daughter!"

Sonny heard Bobbie's voice before the others and in a flash, the mob boss was racing out of the kitchen and toward his front door. Luke and Lucky held back, their ears craned to catch every word of the encounter as Jason and the guards quickly followed.

They stepped into the main room just in time to see Sonny desperately wrench the front door free. "It's okay," he breathed, his relieved eyes coming to rest on his distraught mother-in-law. "It's okay, let her in."

But the guards were beyond acknowledging him, much less obeying him, and only acquiesced to letting the stricken doctor enter when they had finished searching her and were convinced that she wasn't armed. "Ten minutes," one of the men growled before lightly shoving Bobbie into the room and pulling the door shut behind her.

The redhead gaped at the closed door and then turned, her wide eyes falling on the dark-haired man that stood wearily before her. "Sonny…"

He shook his head, not knowing what to say to her. "I…It's so good that you're here."

"I've been trying to call for days," Bobbie informed him quietly, taking a small step on wobbling legs as Sonny ushered her into the living room. Johnny immediately moved forward to offer her a seat, but the dazed woman barely noticed him. "We were all so worried…"

"Mama?" A voice from atop the stairs cut the doctor off, and Bobbie looked up just in time to see a very pale Carly descending the steps. "Oh – Mama!"

Bobbie gasped when she saw her daughter, her worried green eyes immediately raking over her thin form. "Carly, sweetheart, what-"

"He's sick," the blonde gasped, doing her best to stifle a sob as she grasped her mother's outstretched arms. "Mama, he's so sick. Please – please, you have to take a look at him. Mama, please."

Bobbie nodded her head, swallowing roughly and allowed her daughter to pull her weakly toward the stairs. The younger woman's shoulders shook and she tripped slightly on the next step, stumbling until Bobbie steadied her. It was immediately clear to her that Carly wasn't well herself, but the doctor knew better than to ask to examine her daughter before taking care of her grandson.

"It's okay," she tried soothingly, rubbing Carly's back. "It's going to be okay. We'll make sure he gets better – you'll see."

Sonny rubbed a hand over his mouth as he and Jason watched the two women climb the stairs. Luke and Lucky slowly emerged from the kitchen, having temporarily handed over the wiretapping endeavor to Johnny and Max.

The men acknowledged each other grimly, picking up on the concerned murmurs that floated down the stairs and seemed to magnify themselves in the dead silent penthouse. They said nothing, simply sharing the same space in silence until Bobbie finally came down the steps, her arm around her daughter's waist as she supported the tall blonde.

The doctor didn't appear surprised to see her older brother standing next to the fallen mobster, and made her way over to him after helping Carly sit down on the couch. Wordlessly, she wrapped her arm around his shoulders and pressed her cheek to his chest. Luke sighed and rested his chin on her fiery red hair, his own hands clasped loosely at her waist.

"Hello, Barbara."

She looked up at him then with the same faith and wonder in her eyes as when she had been a much younger girl. "I'm so glad the rumors aren't true."

"And what might those rumors be?" Luke asked, tilting his head to the side.

Bobbie replied unflinchingly. "First, that you and Lucky had been pitched into the bottom of the harbor. Second…that you had abandoned the town and run away."

Her older brother simply shook his head, his hold on her waist tightening. "Without you? Not a chance, Barbara Jean."

The woman smiled sadly and stepped out of his embrace, her hand lingering on his forearm. Sonny cleared his throat quietly, wincing when he found that it hurt to swallow. "Bobbie, about Michael – how bad is it?"

She turned to look at him, her eyes open and honest. "It's a pretty serious virus," she replied quietly. "And it looks like it's going around; we've had a number of people in town who have come down with it, too. I told Carly what to do – keep administering the cough syrup, and make sure he gets plenty of fluids to flush it out of his system. Also, the other patients with similar symptoms started coming down with chills, so be sure he stays warm."

The boy's parents were nodding seriously, and Bobbie took the moment to look over at her daughter. "Carly…sweetheart, you need to take care of yourself, too. You don't look well."

"That's what _I _said," Luke huffed. "And I wasn't just saying it to be cruel…well, only partially."

To her credit, the blonde ignored him. "I'll be fine once Michael's fine," she informed her mother with a brave smile. "As long as his fever goes down…"

Bobbie opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by a harsh knock on the door. Cringing, Luke quickly pecked his sister on the cheek and extricated himself from her grip, and he and Lucky managed to leap out of sight just as one of the guards outside opened the door.

"Ten minutes are up," he announced gruffly, scowling at the doctor. "Out you go, Lady."

Bobbie did her best not to be intimidated by his glare and concentrated instead on hugging her daughter goodbye. "Remember what I said," she instructed, tucking a few loose tendrils behind the blonde's ear. "Take care of yourself, too."

"I will," Carly choked out, forcing a smile for her mother's sake. "Mama? …Be careful."

The doctor nodded grimly, tipping her head at Sonny and Jason before sucking in a deep breath and stepping out into the hallway. The guard pulled the door shut and a few seconds later, they heard the elevator ring as Bobbie got on.

* * *

"Where in the hell did he get such resources so quickly?" Sonny murmured, once again pacing back and forth in his kitchen. Jason sat quietly on the counter by the humming refrigerator and the two guards lingered near the island, safely out of the way as the Spencer men worked. "All of these operations of his…he's got triple the manpower we have."

"At the very least," Lucky murmured, holding his headphones to one ear and jotting down a few words with his free hand. "Damn it, I wish they'd talk about the shipping routes. What did you guys use them for?"

Sonny winced, glancing at Jason who offered him nothing. "Weapons. Reinforcements. Payment – cash, usually, in unmarked bills. Narcotics. And on the rare occasion…coffee."

The youngest Spencer laughed at that, his rusty chuckles giving way to a barking cough. Clearing his throat, he wiped his hand on his worn t-shirt and picked up his pen once more, fiddling with it idly as he listened. "Okay, currently, they're placing bets on some horse race. God damn…"

"Keep at it, Cowboy," Luke muttered, smacking his son once on the back as he moved to fill a glass of water from the faucet mounted on the refrigerator door. Jason ducked when the old man opened the cabinet right behind his head, deftly searching for something. "Sonny, where do you keep your medication?"

"The drawer right by your left hand."

"Aha," Luke murmured, finding the pills he was looking for. He popped two into his mouth and took a gulp of water, swallowing hard. It had been days since he had gotten a few hours of restful sleep, and it was finally catching up with him. "Okay, John, Max, how about you guys take over the line again? Give Cowboy a chance to get some beauty sleep. He's beginning to look like he's starring in an independent film."

The guards nodded immediately and waited as Lucky reluctantly put down his gear. After giving them careful instructions that the two guards didn't need, the young man finally got up from the seat he had occupied for the past eight hours straight and stretched wearily.

Sonny set a hand on his shoulder and guided him toward the door. "You can take the guest room upstairs, second door on your right, or-"

"I think I'll just crash on the couch for an hour," the boy mumbled, managing to stagger out into the dining room.

"That's fine, too," the mobster shrugged, glancing over his shoulder at the two guards that had just taken up the wiretapping business. "We need a better way to get some more information. How's the situation in town for you guys?"

"We were spotted only twice when we went out to bug the place," Max responded automatically. "Both times, it was by only two of Alcazar's men who assumed that we worked for him, too. I'm pretty sure that if you need John and me to go out again, we can do it without a problem."

"Jason, too," Johnny murmured, concentrating on the feed from his headphones. "The guards have let up a bit, haven't they?"

The enforcer nodded once, resting his elbows on his knees. He had tried to go out a few days ago and was immediately followed by three of Alcazar's henchmen who dogged his footsteps like faithful hounds. The next day, he had gone to Kelly's again for some coffee and a few of the apple turnovers Carly loved, and only two guards had followed him. He hadn't tried after that until it came time to take Michael to the hospital, but both he and Sonny were forbidden to leave that night.

Yesterday, however, had proved to be a breakthrough. He had left Harborview Towers only to go down to the garage to check his bike, and none of the guards had followed. Deciding to test his luck, he had taken the motorcycle out and gone to Kelly's again for some food and coffee. He wasn't followed, but he soon discovered the reason for that. Port Charles was fairly _crawling_ with Alcazar's men. They were everywhere: walking down the streets in forbidding pairs, taking up a table or two at Kelly's, killing time at Jake's. There was no need for him to be followed wherever he went because Alcazar already had men stationed everywhere.

Jason sighed, watching as Johnny and Max remained hunkered around the sleek laptop. Port Charles had always been a small, sleepy little town to him, but it had never felt quite this oppressive.

Luke was the first to glance up when Max sat up abruptly. Johnny continued to scribble down a few words furiously, handing the sheet over to Sonny as soon as he was done. Silently, Jason hopped off the counter and moved toward his best friend, followed closely by Luke.

"What did we get?" the older Spencer wondered, trying to read the Irishman's chicken scratch.

"All operations halted," Sonny read. "Corinthos shipments disposed. Warehouses stocked with crabs…arms. Warehouses stocked with arms."

"Alcazar wants to eliminate Corinthos and family immediately," Jason read quietly, his voice echoing in the large room. "Has to wait for clearance."

"Clearance?" Sonny muttered, his obsidian eyes once again scanning the news of his imminent demise. "Clearance from who?"

Luke remained suspiciously quiet as Jason shrugged, still reading. "Few more days...clearance. John, what the hell is this about?"

"We're not getting as clear a feed as we hoped," Max replied quickly as Johnny continued to listen. "It gets patchy at times, and that's the best the software could pick up."

"Few more days," Luke muttered, stroking his beard. "Few more days."

"This doesn't make any sense," Sonny growled, slamming the sheet down on the countertop. "If Alcazar wants to eliminate me and Jason, what the hell is stopping him from doing it?"

"Not what," Jason reminded him, his eyes trained on Luke as he did his best once again to read the stoic old man for a clue – any clue. "Who."

* * *

She had always read that Portugal was supposed to be quite nice this time of year. However, as Elizabeth and Robert staggered into the small hotel room they had just broken into, the weather was the last thing on their minds. The agent quickly shut the door, flicking her shoulder to remind her not to turn on any of the lights. Once the door was secured, he turned and found that the petite brunette had already disappeared into the bathroom.

Robert sighed and removed his weapon from his pants, setting it down on the nightstand between the two twin beds that occupied most of the room. There was a small couch, barely big enough for two people, sitting in the nook by the window, and a tiny little dresser. That was just fine for them, because neither he nor Elizabeth had anything much with them.

He had just drawn the blinds and made sure they were sufficiently closed when she emerged from the bathroom, her face dewy from the water and the small black satchel clutched in her hand. It had become second nature for her now to keep the ancient necklace with her at all times; it was as if it was her cross to bear. The one thing that Helena Cassidine wanted more than anything else in the world was what little Elizabeth Webber held in her hand, and she wasn't about to let go anytime soon.

Robert stepped into the bathroom to wash up as Elizabeth surveyed the room. Her weapon found its place next to his on the night table that joined their single beds, and she quietly kicked off her shoes and moved them under the bed. In the dark, she managed to find her way over to the small couch that rested in the window, and Robert came out from the restroom just in time to see her whip out her knife and make a small discreet cut along the seam of one of the throw cushions.

He grunted his approval as the brunette slipped the ruby necklace into the cushion and set it in place on the couch, casting a nervous glance at it as she made her way over to her bed. Robert was already seated and removing his shoes, and Elizabeth flopped down on top of the covers without any preamble. They hadn't eaten in two full days, but hunger was the last thing on her mind. The violent pangs had since receded to a dull occasional throb, a mild nuisance at best and pitiful at worst.

Sleep, however, was her singular focus at the moment. She could handle going without food, but there was no way she would be able to take another step if she didn't get some rest soon. The adrenaline rush that had kept her hard on Robert's heels as they traversed land and sea alike had since died down, and they both needed desperately to recharge if they were going to stand a chance.

Fortunately, they were only a stone's throw from D'Artagnan in Madrid, and that was their last stop before hightailing it back to Port Charles. They had wished to get in contact with Luke, but were only able to send a meager message through Osborne in Mannheim-Ludwigshafen, letting the Spencers and company know that they were fine and as of yet entirely unharmed. Neither knew what awaited them in Port Charles, but both hoped that it was better than what they had faced abroad.

The pair managed to steal a few hours of almost catatonic slumber and Robert was the first to rise a few hours later. It was still dark, and he lay quietly in bed summoning up the full extent of his energy and hoping that the momentary reprieve from the chaos of their days had been enough to renew his energy and spirits alike. The sun would be rising soon, and the agent knew he could wait no longer.

Reluctantly, he stood from his bed and stretched, stepping into his discarded shoes. Elizabeth was still sleeping like the dead in the next bed, and the detective reached out to brush her dark hair out of her face. The movement caused her to stir and Robert waited patiently, knowing that the worst thing for him to do at the moment would be to jostle her out of a deep sleep. Within minutes, Elizabeth was awake and ready to begin the day's exploits.

Robert was cleaning his gun when she shuffled into the bathroom to wash up for the day. She had trained herself to shower in exactly four and a half minutes, but the brief cleanliness she experienced from the almost baptismal ritual before a trying day's work soon gave way to slight unease when she was forced to don the same clothes she had worn for the past two days straight.

The cold water on her face brought her to life as the thick, hot vapor from her shower began to dissipate. Elizabeth closed her eyes and scrubbed thoroughly, making sure to get her neck as well before rinsing the lather away. There was a complimentary blow dryer in the cabinet by the sink and she made quick work of drying her hair and brushing it as straight as she could get it.

The few metal hairpins she always kept on hand were resting on the countertop where she had left them, and Elizabeth studied her reflection in the large mirror as she idly picked one up and began to pin back loose tendrils of hair that always got into her eyes at the most inopportune moments. Within a few minutes she was looking worlds better, and actually looking forward to concluding the last leg of their journey before their return to Port Charles. They had been lucky so far, and they were so close…

She played with the final metal hairpin, pinching it between her fingers as she stared into the mirror. In a few short weeks, her entire life had been turned upside down. When she walked out of the penthouse, she was sentencing herself to returning to her dirty little studio, her cramped room in the Brownstone, a steady job waitressing, and a life without Jason. Now, however, she found herself reunited with the man she loved – despite the fact that they were on two different continents – and traipsing about with a debonair secret agent on a quest to rid the world of the menace that was Helena Cassidine. It was almost enough to send her into hysterics, but she knew Robert wouldn't be pleased if he found her cracking up on the bathroom floor.

A smile tickled her lips as she gripped the hairpin, preparing to tame the last loose lock of her chocolate hair. Just as she was about to slip it into place, a loud, rattling noise from the other room stopped her dead in her tracks. Her blood ran cold in her veins as she heard the hard, heavy footsteps as they fanned out into the room outside, so chaotic that she had no way of discerning the number of intruders. She listened for Robert, but all she heard was a single voice telling him to drop his weapon.

The door had been kicked down. And Helena Cassidine had found them at last.


	31. 31

**Note - **I have decided to upload my stuff to again, so here goes.

**Battle of Who Could Care Less - 31**

Carly was stronger now, much to the relief of the men in Penthouse 4, but still retained her pale, waif-like appearance. She descended the steps noiselessly with a wadded, rolled up ball of 400-thread count cotton in her arms and passed through the kitchen on her way to the laundry room. It was the third pair of sheets that she had brought down in that same day.

Sonny waited silently, listening as she stuffed the sheets into the washer and poured on the detergent. The machine purred and went to work, and his obsidian eyes leapt up to meet his wife's weary and defeated hazel orbs. "He threw up again?"

She nodded, sliding onto the bench next to her uncle. "He hasn't been able to keep anything down for the last twelve hours – I don't even know what he's vomiting up."

Jason gestured to the refrigerator, feeling helpless in the face of the boy's illness but refusing to indulge the feeling. "…One of Alcazar's men sent up another case of Pedialyte."

Carly closed her eyes in a brief moment of gratitude toward their captors. "Good. I just used the last one from the case you brought two days ago. I just…I don't know what to do anymore. His fever's down now, but he keeps throwing up and he's so weak…"

Luke sighed and hesitantly dropped a hand on her shoulder, lightly at first, and then gave her a reassuring squeeze. "Stay strong, Caroline," he murmured, giving her another little shake before sliding off the other end of the bench. "Listen, Cowboy and I are going to take a little breather for a bit. Johnny, Max – it's your turn to bat."

The rotation of shifts was smooth and fluid now, and the two bodyguards picked up seamlessly right where Lucky had left off. Luke patted his son on the back, glancing over his shoulder at Sonny and Jason before ushering the boy toward the door.

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to force back a migraine that had been building slowly since morning. Sonny sighed heavily, and Carly watched the two men she cared for most in the world simply stand in weighted silence. Muffling a yawn with her sleeve, the blonde folded her arms on the tabletop and rested her head there, still watching the two mobsters.

"You can talk, you know," she chuckled quietly. "I mean, I couldn't get up right now if I tried."

Sonny rubbed the back of his neck, exchanging glances with a grim Jason. They had both been waiting for the past two days for something – anything – a signal, a clue, a meeting, anything. From the wiretaps, they had discovered that Alcazar was itching to kill them immediately and cement his position, but was being held back by some unknown force. His henchmen apparently had no idea what that force was and weren't prone to speculating, either. For days they had waited for Alcazar to make some sort of move, but nothing happened.

"It's like a ghost town out there," Jason spoke up quietly. "When I went out…there was hardly anyone out in the streets. Just Alcazar's men, and they were all working. Everyone's closed off and lying low, and…it's like the town's under martial law."

Sonny remained silent, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. He had hoped the situation would remain confined between him and Alcazar, restricted as a battle for control of an underground organization. But it had spread like a virus until it pervaded the town, altering and endangering the lives of innocent civilians that had nothing to do with the arms dealer's sick game.

Their attempts to break free were proceeding slowly. The area that they needed to access was still surrounded by Alcazar's guards, and they did need more information before they could proceed fully. But even then, it was their last resort, and certainly the most costly. He and Jason were so familiar with playing the heroic anti-heroes on the stage that was Port Charles, but this time even Sonny doubted their abilities.

Luke and Lucky tiptoed past Michael's room and quickly ducked into the guest bedroom, making sure to close the door securely behind themselves.

"Finally," Lucky muttered, raking his hand through his blonde spikes. "Now we can actually talk."

"Not for long, son – they might come looking for us," his father reminded him, settling his hands on his hips. "Okay, so how's it looking right now?"

Lucky quirked a brow at him. "Dad, you know as well as I do what's really going on."

"Of course I do," Luke snapped, biffing his son on the back of the head. "Don't forget who you're talking to, boy. But we need to lay it out right now, and get it out of our systems."

"Why can't we just tell Sonny and Jason?"

But the older Spencer was already shaking his head. "That won't do any good, Cowboy. It would be different if they had gone up against this in the past, but they haven't. They don't know what they're doing; for Pete's sake, they still think that their biggest problem is Luis What Are These Strings Doing On My Arms Alcazar!"

Lucky smirked and wearily rubbed his bloodshot eyes. "Alcazar's just a puppet in this whole mess."

"Of course he is," Luke got out, coughing into his fist as he paced the length of the room. "But the question is – does he even know that?"

The young man frowned. "What difference does that make?"

"Plenty," came the reply. "Oh, Cowboy, I've still got so much more left to teach you. If Alcazar knows he's the puppet, it means that what we see is what we get. If he doesn't…things could get real messy."

Lucky wasn't following but he let it go and moved on to his next concern. "Also – we've got to find a way to figure out what Alcazar's really doing. I don't care what Sonny says: there's no way that this is just about transporting weapons. It's bigger than that; it has to be."

"It has to be," Luke murmured in agreement. "The only way we can find out anything more about this is if we get out on our own. Forget the wiretapping; that's fine for those boys, but we've got to get our hands on this ourselves."

"But what about Sonny and Jason? They've told us everything they know and I just think-"

"Son, let me tell you something," Luke started slowly, settling his hands on his oldest child's shoulders and squeezing hard. "You're not going to figure this out for a couple more years, but everything changes when you have a family. Sonny right now, he's not thinking about the bigger picture. He's thinking about how to get his pregnant wife and his sick little boy out of the line of fire."

"But if we tell him what we know-"

"If we tell him what we know, he'll panic," Luke finished simply. "It'll be too much for him And it won't do any of us any good. Sonny and Jason aren't equipped to deal with the Cassidines; we are. They're worrying about their family; we're not."

Lucky quirked a brow at his father. "We're not?"

The Spencer patriarch shook his head. "Nope. Because I got you and you got me, and your mom and sister are out in the Boonies, completely out of the way. We keep this to ourselves, Cowboy. We've done this before, and we'll do it again."

"…Okay," the young man nodded slowly. "Okay, we'll do it again."

"Good," Luke sighed, clapping him hard on the back and frowning when his son let out a barking cough. "Then let's get back downstairs and pretend we're still clueless."

"-message didn't say where they were heading or when they'd be back," they heard Jason say as the Spencer men stepped into the kitchen. "_If_ they'd be back. Look, I'm just saying that Elizabeth is safe as long as she's with Robert. I hope they don't come back to Port Charles for a while."

Lucky pursed his lips when he heard Carly snort. "That little milkmaid is running around with a stupid stone while we're back here fighting for our lives," she half-snarled, tearing up the paper napkin she held in her hands. "But hey, if you're cool with that, so am I. She probably wouldn't know what to do in a situation like this anyway – I swear, Jason, she treats all of this like one big game."

Jason glanced at Sonny, whose obsidian eyes twinkled in reply. The enforcer pursed his lips and just smirked, a little quirk that annoyed Carly to no end.

"You know what? Fine." She rose from the table, weakly at first, but then managed to support herself. "Fine. Go ahead and put that little princess back on your pedestal, Jason. I was there when she hurt you the first time, and I was there when she did it again, and I'm telling you, I hope to God that the third time's the charm and you finally wake up and see that women like her and Robin would never fit into this life."

Sonny watched as his wife stormed out of the kitchen and waited until she was safely out of earshot before turning to his best friend. "Hey, at least picking on Elizabeth makes her stronger."

Jason chuckled, quirking a brow at the awed look that suddenly passed over Lucky's face.

"Oh, man," he breathed, sinking down into his seat. "That's _it_. Sonny's right – it all makes sense now. _That's_ how the Antichrist stays so strong!"

Luke laughed and biffed his son across the back of the head again. "Play nice, Cowboy." He shook his head and idly wandered over to where his former associates stood. "Okay, boys, it's been real nice playing house with you, but Cowboy and I are gonna have to jet. We'll be back, but we need to get out for a bit and-"

"…Sonny? Jason?"

Carly's hesitant call caused Luke to quickly snap his mouth shut and instinctively duck toward the sidewall of the kitchen, safely out of sight. The two mobsters exchanged confused glances and then filed out into the dining room.

"What is it, Car-" Sonny stopped in his tracks when he saw two burly guards standing a few feet away from his uneasy wife. His steps quickened and he was soon insinuating himself in front of her. "What's going on?"

"This came for you and Mister Morgan," the taller guard purred, extending a padded envelope toward the mob boss, who accepted it suspiciously. "Special courier and everything. Enjoy your private screening."

The other guard chuckled as the two backed out of the room, closing the door securely behind them. Jason frowned as Sonny flipped the envelope over, searching for any writing or mark but finding none. Wordlessly, Carly handed him his letter opener from atop the desk and watched also as her husband neatly ripped the yellow envelope open, pulling out a single DVD case.

"What's going on?" Lucky shuffled cautiously over toward the small group, followed closely by his father. "What'd you get?"

"This," Sonny murmured, pulling the DVD out of the case and slowly walking over to his television. Jason crossed his arms over his chest as his friend slid the disc into the sleek DVD player and waited for the snowy footage to clear.

His breath hitched in his throat when it did a few seconds later. There, on the screen, were Robert and Elizabeth.

Lucky's jaw dropped. "What the fuck-"

Carly's knees wobbled and she sank down on to the couch, her wide eyes trained on the ropes that bound Robert and Elizabeth's feet as the dark silhouette of an armed man moved past. "Oh, my God…"

"…They're…they're handcuffed," Sonny murmured, gripping the armrest of the sofa just in case as he felt his own knees go weak. "To the headboard."

Luke stared grimly at the footage, his eyes taking in the equally grim look on Robert's face. Elizabeth appeared scared but kept up a brave façade, just as he knew she would. But then one of the men passed by too close, and the armed guard reached out to brush her loose bangs out of her face and tuck them behind her ear, and Luke found himself wincing at the same time as the petite brunette strapped down to the bed.

Unable to help himself, he turned his neck slightly and braved a glance at Jason. The younger man was staring up at the screen, a mixture of disbelief and heartache flickering across his normally stoic cerulean orbs. His mouth was open, his lips parted, and it appeared as if the mobster was struggling to breathe at the sight before him.

The cameraman backed up a bit, allowing for a view of the four armed men dressed all in black that took up the small hotel room. One appeared to be the ringleader, and he soon stepped in between the two twin beds and smirked smugly at the camera.

"_Jason Morgan_," he spoke in clear English obstructed only slightly by a faint Russian accent. "_And Luke Spencer. We'd like to ask you to join our celebration this evening. For as you can see…we have your friends. And the necklace_."

Luke and Lucky stared gravely at each other, and Carly was the first to notice that the two men didn't appear very surprised at the fact that Helena's men knew that they would be together when they received the tape.

"_This is the end of the line_," the man continued smugly, his hand absently caressing the firearm he held so easily. "_And you're all done for. It's been a long chase, to be sure, and one that Madame Cassidine has enjoyed. However, it is my unfortunate duty to inform you that the Madame was rather disappointed in your abilities; she expected so much more from you, Spencer. Especially when Scorpio here proved so easy to foil_."

They saw Robert scowl as Elizabeth did her best to sit quietly against the headboard, not calling any more attention to herself.

"_Now let us find out where the little girl has hidden the necklace, hm_?" The henchman smiled at the camera, motioning his men forward. "_Go_."

One man stood next to Elizabeth's bedside as another took his place by Robert. The second guard roughly prodded the man, shoving him hard against the headboard and smirking when the wood smacked against the wall. "_All right, Scorpio – where is it_?"

Robert remained silent, staring unflinchingly up at the man even when a weapon was produced and waved in his face. Sonny slowly sank down on the couch next to his wife, who reached out and gripped his forearm tightly, almost to the point of pain. Jason remained standing, his anguished orbs trained on the frightened woman he loved.

The guard scowled and shoved Robert again, harder this time. "_Speak up, Scorpio. We'll make you talk one way or another_."

"_And if you don't…we'll get it out of the girl_," another guard off camera snickered. "_And believe me, you don't want us to do that_."

Elizabeth shivered noticeably, and Robert refused to look at her. Still, the detective stiffened when he heard the assassin standing by the girl undo the safety gauge of his weapon. He said nothing.

"_Talk, Scorpio_," the guard barked, shoving the barrel right against Elizabeth's temple with so much force that the brunette had to prop up her elbow to keep from falling to her side.

Jason's chest constricted when she muffled a whimper of pain. Words were beyond his expressed capabilities and instead he kept his eyes trained on the screen.

"_Talk_," the guard warned, "_or the girl gets it_."

Robert pursed his lips, making the mistake of glancing over at the silent brunette. The guard at her side snapped just then, and pulled back enough to gain a clear shot at the wall behind the young woman's head. Elizabeth yelped and jerked violently to the side when the shot went off so close to her body, and that was all it took for Robert to crack.

"_The sofa_," he blurted out, tipping his head toward the small couch by the window. "_The sofa. Take it - just leave the girl alone_."

The guards snickered and one of them moved over to the couch. "_Where, Scorpio_?"

"_The red cushion_," he mumbled in defeat, looking away as the guard ripped the throw pillow open and triumphantly pulled out the gleaming blood-colored stone.

"_There, now_," another guard soothed, stroking a trembling Elizabeth's dark hair. "_That wasn't so difficult, was it_?"

The brunette cringed and eased away from him, drawing her legs up closer to her body. The guard only chuckled and thankfully moved out of the way, bending to retrieve something from his bag as the other waved the necklace in front of the camera.

"_And thus ends our charming little game, Spencer_," the ringleader smiled facetiously. "_Oh, wait just a moment…it appears we've got another little surprise in store for you. This one directly from our lovely contestants_."

He turned toward Robert and then Elizabeth, motioning toward the camera. "_Any last words? Any at all?"_

He waited, but both the agent and the brunette remained silent, glaring fiercely back at him and refusing to make eye contact with the rolling camera.

"_Very well_," the henchman shrugged as if he had given it his best shot. "_Show them_."

The guard that had retrieved something out of his bag now held it up to reveal what it was. Sonny's pained gasp tore through the room when he recognized the powerful explosive in the man's hand.

The henchman once again looked at Robert and Elizabeth. "_Any last words_ now?"

Luke watched quietly as a panicked look flickered through the brunette's expressive orbs, but Robert quieted her down with a single pointed look. Elizabeth was doing quite well under the circumstances, and he certainly was proud of her.

But the ringleader had seen the young woman's moment of weakness and seized upon it. Stealthily, he moved to her side and sat down on the edge of her bed, invading her personal space and smirking when she tried to scoot away but found her movement restricted by the handcuffs. With faux-tenderness, he reached out and brushed her loose bangs out of her eyes, tucking them behind her ears and letting his fingers slip through her low ponytail. His eyes trailed over her dainty features from her eyes to her nose to her lips, and finally settled on her neck with the express design of making her uncomfortable.

Carly's nails dug into her husband's arm as she watched Elizabeth suck in a breath when the man's fingers closed around a small red pendant hanging from her neck.

"_My, what a lovely necklace_," he murmured, playing with the amulet. "_Did Morgan gift you with this, my dear? It was him, wasn't it_?"

Elizabeth steeled her jaw and looked away and up, blinking back her tears. But the guard persisted, still playing with the amulet.

"_He's got wonderful taste_," the man smiled, finally releasing it. "_In jewelry and women, I must say. Are you sure you do not wish to be generous enough to leave him with a few last words to remember you by? Perhaps to tell him that you love him? Wouldn't that bit of knowledge make his long, cold nights without you just the least bit more bearable_?"

Jason couldn't breathe as he watched Elizabeth hesitantly glance at the camera before forcing herself to look away. She wouldn't give in to the man and though he admired her stubbornness, for a moment, the enforcer simply longed to hear her voice again.

The ringleader shrugged and moved away. "_Ah, you heard it, Morgan. The girl can't even muster up the ability to tell you that much. All right – she had her chance. We're moving out. Check Scorpio one more time – make sure he conceals nothing._"

The ringleader waited as two of the guards searched an unwilling Robert, smirking when the men produced a nail file and one lock pick from inside the detective's shoe. "_And the socks_." When Robert's feet were bare, they found another lock pick. "_Gag him. Leave the girl_."

The men complied, holding Robert's nose shut and patiently waiting five minutes and forty-seven seconds before the lack of oxygen forced the agent to gasp. Taking the opportunity to shove a balled handkerchief into his mouth, they quickly gagged him with another and knotted it securely behind his head. Making sure that the handcuffs were still securely linked to the wooden rails that comprised the headboard, the men began to clear out.

Luke sighed and covered his mouth as the ringleader picked up the explosives and punched a few keys, holding it up to the camera to let them all know that they had exactly five minutes to detonation…and counting.

"_We're coming for you next, Spencer_," the man smiled wickedly, setting the explosive down on the dresser. "_Til then_."

With that, the ringleader filed out of the room, followed closely by the cameraman who still kept rolling as they walked. The door was shut and bolted and the men quickly descended their steps and walked a safe distance away to their waiting flock of cars. By the time they reached the appropriate safety zone, four minutes had already passed.

They watched in silence as the ringleader pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it casually, bringing it to his lips and sending up a small puff of smoke into the dark sky. "_Almost show time, Spencer_," he smiled congenially as the other guards snickered. "_We wouldn't want to miss this, would we? Perhaps a countdown is in order_."

Lucky let out a small, whimpering sigh as he stared disbelievingly at the screen.

"_And…twenty_."

Tears sprang to Carly's eyes and she pressed her face to Sonny's shoulder, squelching a sob.

_"…seventeen."_

The mobster finally felt her hand on his arm, the bare nails digging into his skin, and wrapped his own around it. He squeezed fiercely, refusing to believe that this was the end. Swallowing roughly past his burning throat, Sonny kept his eyes trained on the small hotel room door he knew to the Robert and Elizabeth's as he hoped beyond hope that the duo would make a daring escape at the last possible second.

_"…Twelve."_

Luke shifted his weight, leaning back on his heels then stretching with his toes as he crossed his arms over his chest and waited, frowning at the television screen.

_"…Nine."_

Jason's hands curled into fists.

_"…Seven."_

Sonny leaned his head back, feeling Carly's tawny hair brush against his neck, and murmured a broken prayer.

_"…Four."_

Carly whimpered.

_"…Three."_

Lucky gasped for breath, unable to breathe or believe.

_"…Two."_

Luke licked his lips in anticipation.

_"…One."_

Jason let out a single muffled, choking sob as the hotel exploded brilliantly against the crisp, dark nighttime sky. The footage flickered to snow, and then the screen went black.


	32. 32

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 32**

One minute, Luke Spencer was standing by the television in Sonny Corinthos' penthouse, his pale blue eyes transfixed to the black screen. In the next, he found himself grabbed by the shirt and whirled around, slammed up hard against the front door by a recklessly enraged Jason.

The enforcer was breathing hard, his rough cheeks stained with silent tears as he applied force and pressed his arm right against Luke's trachea. He eased forward treacherously, his cerulean eyes hard and dead. "Give me one reason…"

In the background, Luke heard Carly muffle a horrified yell with both hands. Dimly, he was aware of Sonny and his son lunging forward and latching onto Jason, trying to pull him back. But the old man's pale blue eyes remained fixed on Jason's lethal cerulean ones, and he didn't show any signs of discomfort as Jason applied greater pressure to his windpipe.

"Jason, stop it," Carly breathed, trembling weakly behind her husband. The mobster, horrified and resolute all at the same time, had his hands on Jason's forearm and was attempting to drag him back. Lucky, too, had tears in his eyes and angrily swiped them away as he dug his heels into the carpet and pulled along with Sonny.

"Jason, come on, you don't want to do this." Sonny's pained, quiet voice failed to reach his best friend.

"Give me one good reason," the enforcer seethed, breathing hard as he stared coldly into Luke's calm eyes. Tremors raced through his body, undermining the force that he struggled to apply to the old man's trachea even as he was being pulled back. "One good reason why I shouldn't end this right now."

Lucky choked on a cough and stopped pulling. Sonny glared at him for the retreat, but his lips parted when the young man stepped back and studied Jason's shoulder before slicing his hand through the air and bringing it down on a crucial junction of nerves. Jason growled, feeling a temporary numbing sensation in the arm that he was using to keep Luke pinned against the door. That was all the opportunity Sonny needed, and the kingpin managed to jerk him back and set Luke free.

But the enforcer's other hand fisted in the old man's shirt as Jason struggled to get free. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't-"

Luke pushed him away and straightened his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles before calmly meeting the devastated young man's turbulent blue orbs. "Because Elizabeth's not dead. And neither is Robert."

_Previously, in the Portuguese hotel room…_

"Are you sure you do not wish to be generous enough to leave him with a few last words to remember you by?" The henchman's breath was hot and dewy on her cheek but Elizabeth did her best not to illustrate her discomfort as he eased closer.

"Perhaps to tell him that you love him? Wouldn't that bit of knowledge make his long, cold nights without you just the least bit more bearable?"

The brunette kept her mouth shut. She wasn't about to give the bastard the satisfaction of watching her profess her love for a man she might never see again. She loved Jason, it was true, but they had never talked about their feelings like that. She suspected, however, that hers were reciprocated. Whatever the case, she wasn't about to divulge that on a crude videotape created by her enemies for their own sick, twisted pleasure.

The man frowned slightly when she refused to take the bait and to her relief, pushed himself away from the bed. "Ah, you heard it, Morgan. The girl can't even muster up the ability to tell you that much."

Elizabeth's eyes darkened but she fought actively to keep her expression bland and didn't make any eye contact with the camera poised between the two single beds. The ringleader clapped his hands once, signaling his men. "All right – she had her chance. We're moving out. Check Scorpio one more time – make sure he conceals nothing."

The men quickly pulled off Robert's shoes and peeled off his socks, and Elizabeth closed her eyes when the detective's secret stash was revealed. He never went anywhere without a lock pick or a file – sometimes both – in his shoe, and she suspected that he had one clipped inside the cuff of his sleeve as well. But the guards checked there as well as they finished up, and then finally gagged him on their leader's behest. The brunette shook her head to herself, thinking how futile the extra effort was. Robert would have the gag down around his neck in no time.

"We're coming for you next, Spencer," the henchman smiled, setting the explosive down on the dresser. Elizabeth's eyes widened when she saw the five-minute timer, and her hands tightened into small fists behind her back.

"Til then."

The men took one last look at their conquests, pleased with themselves. Robert scowled at the wall and the brunette kept her eyes averted, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of seeing her fear. The sooner they left…

Elizabeth let out a tremulous breath when she heard the ringleader close the door behind him. Her sapphire orbs flickered over to the explosive set casually on the small dresser, and then over to Robert.

She saw that he was already at work trying to free himself from the gag and didn't waste any more time. Instead, she tugged on her handcuffs, testing to see how solid the bars in the headboard were. Finding that they were quite stubborn and wouldn't give an inch, she switched instantly to Plan B.

Bracing her hands flat against the pillow behind her, Elizabeth pushed her body up off the bed and drew her knees in, tucking them against her chest. She pulled her arms forward, the metal links taut against the bar that she was cuffed to, and lifted her bottom so that she was able to perch herself on top of the headboard.

Robert watched her for a moment, confused, then managed to kick away the rope that bound his feet. Elizabeth licked her lips and made sure she had her balance. Her position atop the headboard was precarious at best, but she managed to draw her knees in underneath her secured arms and braced them on the mattress.

After that, it was relatively easy to access the knot that held them bound. Robert stopped his efforts, finding Elizabeth to be their best bet since his concealed tools had been taken from him. He still had a metal file half-sewn into the waistband of his trousers, but couldn't access it easily.

"Top knot," he directed, his voice still partially obscured behind the handkerchief. He shook his head and it slipped down to his chin. "Pull it through. Look for the second one – that's it."

She followed his harried instructions and was soon able to toss the rope away. With her feet free, the brunette was better able to maintain her balance as she finally turned her attention to her handcuffs. Robert's eyes widened when her lips parted and she used her tongue to push a small metal hairpin out from inside her cheek.

It had been a particularly unnerving experience for her, to have the sharp pin lodged between her jaw and her cheek as the guards prowled the room. It was partially why she had been hesitant to open her mouth and speak, for fear that she might either reveal her possession or accidentally swallow it.

But those fears vanished the instant she spit the pin out into her waiting palm and went to work, driven only by the singular desire to get out before the bomb detonated. She knew from Jason how to pick locks properly – he had actually taken time to instruct her in the delicate technique a few nights after she ruined his black AMEX with her Sydney Bristow routine – and a brief moment passed before Robert heard the tell-tale click, and then Elizabeth was free.

She leapt up from the bed and immediately flung herself down at his side. He sat up straight, granting her easy access to his cuffs, and it took her fifteen long, painful seconds to finally dislodge the inner mechanism.

Free now, Robert ripped the gag from around his neck and tossed the cloth to the floor. He stepped into his shoes and stuffed his socks into his pockets, grabbing his phone from the nightstand. A number flashed across the small LCD screen, letting him know that he had missed a call during the screen.

Robert glanced at the number, then chuckled. "My old friend," he murmured, slipping the device into his pocket. "You have yet to let me down when I need you."

He looked over his shoulder as Elizabeth appeared at his side with her small black satchel tied against her side. He took one look at the explosive and knew he'd never be able to disarm it before it blew – that was more Frisco and Anna's forte than his own – and desperately grabbed Elizabeth's hand.

"Out we go," he directed, already prying open the window and punching out the screen. It fell harmlessly to the deserted alley below as the agent stuck his head out and peered around for their best escape route. The gutters were right above their heads, leading to the vertical pipe that descended down to the ground. A few feet beyond that was a fire escape, and he knew it was their best hope.

"Across the ledge, past the pipe, down the fire escape. Do as I do."

Elizabeth gulped and glanced over her shoulder at the explosive, noting that they barely had a minute and a half to get a safe distance away. Robert turned around and pulled himself up onto the sill before reaching out and grabbing the gutter pipe. Cursing under his breath, he pushed off until his heels were on the sill, and then maneuvered himself away altogether.

She was terrified at the prospect of following him, but pure adrenaline kept her from dwelling on the feeling. Without a sound, she hoisted herself up directly onto her heels, balancing on the sill as her hands searched for the pipe. It was a bit of a reach for her, and she slowly eased herself onto her toes to reach it.

Maintaining a strong grip was easy – after all, she wasn't about to let go of her only lifeline. But as she transferred the entirety of her weight and allowed her upper arms to bear the brunt of it, Elizabeth wondered how on earth she'd be able to manage. But the reminder that they barely had a minute left to detonation spurred her on, and she did her best to quickly put one hand before the other and follow Robert over to the fire escape.

The pipe proved very useful, and she was able to brace her legs on the supports and increase her momentum. Robert called for her to let go and caught her when she fell, half-dragging her down the fire escape in his haste to get away. He jumped down to the alley below, not bothering with the last level, and she quickly followed suit.

"There!" Robert directed, pointing a finger at a waste management truck that was beginning to make its departure. "Go! Move, move!"

He grabbed her arm and pulled her along through the dark alley. Her slight frame was easy for him to maneuver as the young woman did her best to keep up in the half-minute they had left. "Go, go!"

Robert grabbed her by the waist as they chased the slowly moving truck, and Elizabeth reached out for the latch. She caught it on her second try and was soon pushed up, and the brunette managed to climb in and roll onto the pile of cardboard inside. Robert followed instantly, diving into the dark cab and grunting as he took the brunt of the fall on his arm and shoulder.

Elizabeth was breathing hard, half-choking on her breaths, and the detective quickly reached for her. The truck was beginning to pick up speed and they could make out the hotel in the darkness as the curtains fluttered from the breeze that swept in through their open window.

He felt her small body jerk in his grasp as Elizabeth gripped the side tightly. "Robbie – the people! What about the other-"

"It's too late," he told her quietly, firmly. She looked up at him with wild, glassy eyes, refusing to believe him, but the detective simply ran his fingers through her unruly hair and forced her to hold his gaze. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth, but it's either us or them. There's nothing that can be done."

Her eyes filled with tears as she peered over the edge of the recycling truck, and both of them managed to catch one final glimpse of the small Portuguese hotel before it exploded in a mushroom cloud of embers and sparks. They felt the force of the blast in the road under the truck's wheels, but their driver had already picked up speed.

Robert clutched Elizabeth tightly against him as she dropped her head to his shoulder. His hand splayed out against her upper back anchored her close to him as the young woman did her best to swallow a sob and failed.

With a heavy sigh, the agent set his chin down on her silky chestnut hair, feeling the fierce tremors that ran through her small frame as she sobbed. He held still in his fatherly embrace, as if hoping to transfer his own strength to her body and absorb her shock at coming so close to death for the first time throughout their journey, and closed his eyes as he thought back on how she had managed to hide a makeshift lock pick and get them both out in time.

"You brilliant little girl," he murmured, clenching his fingers in her dark hair as Elizabeth whimpered quietly in the dark cab. "You damned, brilliant girl."


	33. 33

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 33**

"I still don't get it," Sonny said, following Luke as he and Lucky returned to the kitchen. Carly and Jason followed close behind, doggedly pursuing the evasive old man. "Who the hell is Tanganeva? And how did he know to contact you?"

Lucky and Luke sighed in unison. "Tanganeva," Luke started, settling his hands on his hips as he impatiently explained to the peanut gallery, "is an old friend of Robert's from the Outback. They've been friends since they were kids."

"Is he a WSB agent?" Jason inquired, his voice rough and scratchy.

The old man shook his head. "Nope. He's just your average Aborigine."

"…Then how did he know that Helena would try to kill Robert and Elizabeth?"

"He and Robert share a psychic connection," Luke explained. "They always have. Tanganeva always comes and finds Robert when Robert's about to get into something dangerous. In fact, he even showed up right before Kangaroo Jack married Anna Divine for the second time – a telling sign, if you ask me. Imagine if all men got the same warning…Hell, Corinthos, your track record would look considerably different if-"

"Is he the one Robert mentioned in Mexico?" Sonny interjected quickly, trying to remember the peculiar exchange. "When Elizabeth was going back to the villa, he said…"

"He said that a friend told him about her, and mentioned her by name," Luke finished. "Yeah, that was Tanganeva. He told Robert that he'd be working with a girl named Elizabeth, and that they'd go through a whole long mess together. Same guy. I'm telling you, he's a psychic."

"And you actually believe this?" Jason asked incredulously. "You believe in their…_psychic connection_, and you know that Elizabeth's alright only because he said so?"

"Sure," Luke shrugged, taking a gulp of water and downing another pill. "I don't mess around with that mental stuff, man. If Tanganeva said it, it's Gospel. I got a call from him a few days ago-"

"A few _days_ ago?!"

"-telling me," the oldest Spencer continued witheringly, "that something big was going to go down and it would look like Robert and Elizabeth were down for the count, but not to believe it."

Johnny and Sonny had to physically restrain Jason from marching over to where Luke sat. "Why the hell didn't you say anything?!"

"What would I say?" Luke asked, playing along. "Oh, hey, Jason, you know that one guy who's been nothing but a big thorn in your butt? Yeah, well, his psychic pal just told me that it would look like he died for the umpteenth time, and not to fall for it because it wasn't real…for the umpteenth time."

He quirked a brow at the seething enforcer. "You tell me you'd have believed that."

"So they're alive," Lucky summed up, turning toward his father expectantly. "But no one has any clue where they are, right?"

"Not a one, Cowboy," Luke replied with a shrug. "For now, we pretend that we buy the rouse, and hope that they surface sometime soon with some answers."

-------------------------

A few hours passed, and Luke and Lucky were still at the Corinthos penthouse. They had been going over Jason and Sonny's plans for a while, trying to patch up any holes that might make the operation run more smoothly. When it became clear that the two Spencer men had a good handle on the proceedings, Sonny got up and quietly excused himself and Jason to go check on Michael, not knowing that the Spencer men were just as eager for him to leave so that they could discuss their own plans.

The two mobsters stole up the dark staircase to the upper level. Carly was asleep in the rocking chair in Michael's room, so the two men ducked into the master bedroom with the bodyguards in tow.

"What's going on, Boss?" Johnny wanted to know. "What'd you call us up here for?"

Sonny waited for Jason to close the door and join them. "Okay," he started, glancing from his enforcer to the two guards. "Now we can actually talk. Johnny, Max, you guys saw the DVD?"

The guards nodded. Johnny was the first to speak up. "The most telling sign about the whole thing," he declared, "was that Helena Cassidine knew that Jason and Luke would be together when they received the DVD."

"Exactly," Sonny nodded, pleased that his guards were on the same page as he was and he wouldn't have to waste time explaining. "Jason, it's just what you've been saying all along: now we know for sure where Alcazar's been getting his resources."

The enforcer's hands settled on his hips and he answered with a terse nod. "It had to all be connected," he replied. "Alcazar bounced back too quickly with too many men and too much money for it to be only him."

Sonny rubbed his hands together, licking his lips as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "This is really, really good for us."

"How so?" Max asked.

"If Helena is the one calling the shots," Johnny mused, "it would explain why Alcazar's men were talking about Alcazar having to wait for clearance. It also explains the hierarchy among the guards themselves."

Sonny hadn't heard of that one before. "What was that, Johnny?"

"It's like I told Luke," the Irishman replied slightly uneasily. "From the wiretapping, me and Lucky got a feeling that there was a hierarchy among Alcazar's guards. Some were just peons that reported back to higher guards. Those guards often reported to the higher officials, who in turn reported back to Alcazar. But there were some guards in the organization that outranked all that. They knew things that the others didn't, and they didn't bother to explain when asked."

Jason nodded along to what the guard was saying. "It's definitely what we've been thinking all along, then."

A glimmer of hope made Sonny's dark eyes sparkle as he continued to rub his palms together. "The reason that this is so good for us," he started slowly, talking more to his guards than Jason, who already knew of it, "is that Helena doesn't have a personal vendetta against me or Jason. We're not Spencers, and we're not Luke's associates…anymore. We never really went up against her, so she's not concerned with us like Alcazar might have been. With him, it's personal."

Johnny didn't look too convinced. "But, Boss, what about Mrs. C? Last time I checked, she was a Spencer."

Sonny snorted at that. "And the last time _I_ checked, Johnny, the Spencers didn't even consider her one of them. So why should Helena?"

"There's a difference between Spencers as far as Helena is concerned," Jason agreed, remembering what Elizabeth had told him about that sordid blood feud back in Oxford. "Luke, Lucky, Laura, and Bobbie – hell, even Lucas – are a different kind of Spencer than Carly and Tony are. Neither one is a pure Spencer."

"How is Lucas a pure Spencer, then?"

"He's not," Jason agreed, "but Helena has a personal vendetta with his father. Tony helped her revive Stavros, and she blamed him when it ended badly. Carly, on the other hand, wasn't raised as a Spencer. She arrived in Port Charles under a different name, and she didn't immediately fall in with her family."

"Besides, she can't stand Luke," Sonny reminded the young man. "Or Lucky, or Elizabeth, who's about as close to being a pure Spencer as you can get without actually being part of the family – again, due to personal reasons, like when Elizabeth fooled Helena into thinking she was dead. Carly's drawn a clear line between herself and the rest of her family, and Helena has, too."

He turned back to Jason, letting out a small sigh and nodding his head jerkily. "Yeah. If what we're thinking is right, then Alcazar's just gonna have to keep waiting for clearance. Helena can do more with us alive than she can otherwise."

Max was glancing back and forth between his two employers. "…And what are we gonna do with this little gem?" He swallowed when Jason and Sonny both looked at him as if he had sprouted a second head. "I mean, are we gonna tell Luke and Lucky?"

Johnny frowned when Sonny chuckled. "No? We're not? Why not?"

"They've told us everything they know," Max pointed out without knowing why he was getting so defensive about a man he had only just gotten to know. "They've risked their lives to sneak into the penthouse and bug Alcazar's offices."

"We're all in this together," Johnny agreed. "Why can't we tell them what we're thinking?"

"Johnny, look," Sonny started, holding his hand up in the air. "I get what you're saying and I like that you're saying it – it proves loyalty and character. But let me tell you something about the Spencers. They've got revenge in their blood – revenge against the Cassidines."

"This is the closest you'll ever get to a real blood feud," Jason informed the men quietly. "I probably don't even know the whole of it, but Elizabeth told me a lot about what happened between Helena and Mikkos and the Spencers and Scorpios. And they want each other dead in the worst possible way."

Again, Johnny wasn't following. "Then why aren't they? I mean, they've had plenty of chances to kill each other, so why not-"

"Because that's the game," Jason explained patiently. "That's what they're all about: one-upping the other and proving that they're a step ahead."

"There's real hatred working there," Sonny cut in, "but there's a twisted kind of mutual respect, too. Luke had his chance to kill Helena – hell, he had a handful of them – but he didn't. She's the same way. That's the fun: cornering the enemy, letting them know it, and then cutting them loose so that you can meet up again and repeat the whole damn thing."

"That's fucking insane," the Irishman muttered, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"No one said it wasn't," the kingpin allowed with a shrug. "And that's why we're not telling them about this. What would we say? That we think we have a free pass with Alcazar because of Helena, and that she wouldn't bother taking the time to actually hurt us? That's not what they need to hear."

"This is the same woman that kidnapped Luke's son and made him think that he died," Jason reminded the guards in a somber voice. "And then brought him back to life only to program him to kill his father. This isn't about money or…or territory or power. It's personal – it's about family."

Sonny nodded, not wanting to divulge the other skeletons the Spencers and Cassidines had in their respective closets. "Luke and Lucky just found out that Helena Cassidine is after Elizabeth and Robert, and is coming after them next. They're not worrying about Alcazar anymore – they just had to switch focus completely and worry about a new threat. We don't need to tell them anything more – they've got enough on fire in front of them."

The mob boss let out a sigh and ran his hand through his hair. "The reason that this is so good for us," he continued quietly, "is because we're Luke's ace in the hole this time. If Helena's coming after him, we're the dark horses. We'll be the threat that she never sees coming because she's focusing on the Spencers."

He nodded to himself, finding the prospect of helping Luke out again very agreeable – especially since Luke and Lucky had just risked their lives to help him defeat Alcazar. "And that's why we go ahead with our plans – and we say nothing."

Johnny and Max exchanged uneasy glances, but didn't have much of a choice. "Got it," they mumbled. "We won't say a thing."

-------------

"Where the hell did Cheech and Chong disappear to?" Luke muttered to himself, pacing around the living room by himself. Hearing footsteps on the stairs, he looked up expectantly only to see his weary niece descending. Carly sighed heavily and moved past him, curling up on a corner of the couch as her uncle continued to pace absently.

"Now, Caroline, remember something," he directed, clasping his hands behind his back as he walked. "Don't hold back when it comes to your grief over Elizabeth's death. If people ask you how you're holding up since you got the news about your BFF, don't give them the afterschool-special version. Let it out – yell, cry, and hell, keen if you want. It's never a good idea to keep such overwhelming anguish bottled up."

The blonde was staring at him as if he'd lost his mind, and glanced up gratefully when her husband and Jason appeared. "Oh, thank God you're here – I thought Luke was having a stroke or something."

Her uncle pretended to glare at her, but soon turned his attention to the two mobsters. "All right, boys, we've got a few things we need to go over. First off, Cowboy and I have been thinking-"

"Dad!"

Luke spun around on his heel, flailing slightly, when he heard his son yell. "What in God's-"

Just then, Lucky came flying out from the kitchen and almost collided with a lamp as he raced toward the couch, hurdling it easily and snatching the remote from the coffee table. Carly huffed at being jostled, but her protests soon gave way to stunned silence as her cousin flipped on the television.

Jason and Sonny stared at the Cassidine matriarch as if they had never seen her before, and Lucky silently demonstrated the gravity of the situation by flicking through several channels, showing that Helena had hijacked all of the local satellite signals.

"Damn," Luke murmured, motioning for his son to turn the volume up. "Showing your cards so soon, old girl? That's not smart."

Jason focused on the Cassidine Queen's words as Luke continued to mumble under his breath, and exchanged uneasy glances with Sonny. If Helena was already in Port Charles, it meant the Spencers were in greater danger than they had imagined.

"_Good evening, Port Charles_," Helena purred, tenting her fingers with her elbows resting on the armrests of her majestic throne. Luke instantly recognized the backdrop as the main cabin of her spacious yacht, and guessed that she was floating in the harbor as they watched.

_"I am exceedingly sorry for the circumstances under which you find yourselves," the old woman continued, her hard eyes glittering in the dim lighting. "However, be forewarned: you'll soon find yourselves in exceedingly dire straits if my demands are not met."_

"She's holding the city ransom," Carly murmured weakly, brushing her limp hair out of her eyes. "…But with _what_?"

"We'll soon find out, Caroline," her uncle mumbled, frowning at the screen. "The Dragon Lady has a hard time keeping secrets – or not gloating. We'll probably get a dose of both real soon."

_"Port Charles is currently under my control, courtesy of the services of one Luis Alcazar. Any resistance or pleas for help will prove futile, I'm afraid; the Port Charles Police Department might as well stop while they're ahead."_

Sonny cursed under his breath, remembering suddenly that Alcazar also had ties with high-order government organizations. If that was still true, the man pretty much had a free pass to destroy the town without the federal government so much as batting an eyelash. Next to him, Jason was having similar thoughts.

_"I ask for nothing much,"_ Helena continued. "_All I want…is Luke Spencer."_

"Darlin', that's dirty," the man in question smirked at the screen. "Please – not in front of the children."

_"If Luke Spencer is delivered to my yacht expediently, I will see to it that your petty lives are at once restored to normalcy."_ The old woman's eyes glittered dangerously as the corners of her mouth twitched into a sinister smile. _"Your task shouldn't prove difficult. The same extended family that banded together to save him the last time will be forced to turn him in this time."_

Lucky and Luke looked at each other, nodding together slightly in tacit agreement and understanding.

_"I am more than happy to wait,"_ Helena smiled, leaning back in her majestic seat. _"However, I must advise the citizens of Port Charles that the longer I am forced to wait, the sooner they should consider seeing to their own personal affairs. For I fear that if Luke Spencer is not delivered to me personally…no one shall be around much longer."_

With that, the screen flickered to black and then to the emergency broadcast signal. Lucky quickly turned the television off and turned to his companions, his serious eyes meeting his father's.

"I guess we have to change our plans, Dad," he said quietly, rubbing his palms together. "Because there's no way in Hell that I'm letting you go _anywhere_."

"Cowboy-"

"Lucky's right," Sonny spoke up, surprising the young man. "Luke, after that, it's too dangerous for you to show your face in town. If things are as bad as Johnny and Max say out there, then Port Charles will be crawling with vigilantes ready to drag you in to Helena to save themselves. You and Lucky will be staying here until this blows over."

Luke let out a harsh, barking laugh that quickly turned into a cough. "Good one, Corinthos," he hacked into his fist. "This ain't going to 'blow over' until the Dragon Lady has my head on a platter with a little parsley on the side. I'm your best chance in this whole mess, like it or not, and there's no way that I can stay here-"

"Dad, come on," Lucky interrupted, making his way to his father's side. "There's no telling what Helena wants to do with you. We have to wait and-"

"But what did she mean when she said no one would be around much longer?" Carly spoke up, her worried eyes darting around the room. "What was that about?"

Luke and Lucky shrugged uncomfortably, and the oldest Spencer found himself trying to reassure his niece for reasons unknown even to him. "Whatever it is, Caroline, we'll find out," he said, facing his son once more. "And that's why-"

"We'll do it, Dad," Lucky agreed, interjecting. "But you're still going to have to lie low. Like you said, you're our best chance – and we won't be able to do shit if you're stuck on her yacht. We should wait, bide our time, and figure out how to strike once we know_exactly_ what Helena's up to."

"And how do we do that?" Johnny asked wearily, stifling a cough with his sleeve. "The wiretaps haven't turned up anything on the Cassidines."

"That brings us to our next order of business," Luke announced. "Like Irish said, those bugs aren't turning up much. We have to find a better way to get information on the old bat."

"…What are you thinking, Dad?"

"Someone's going to have to sneak out through the hatch and scope out the town, maybe plant something on Helena's yacht which we now know is most likely stationed in the harbor."

Sonny and Jason gaped at him, certain that Luke had lost his mind. "That's impossible!" the kingpin exploded, throwing his hands in the air. "It's suicide!"

Jason glanced at Lucky, waiting for him to add his opinion to the chaos. Luke was as stubborn as they came, but if anyone could force him to reconsider, it was his son. But to his surprise, the young man was staring at his father with a devilish twinkle in his pale blue eyes.

"…Maybe not," he murmured, stroking his chin. "I…I think I might have an idea. I'm going to need a guard or two that you trust, Sonny – not Johnny or Max, though. We need them here."

The two guards exchanged glances, inwardly proud of the declaration in their favor.

"What are you thinking, Cowboy?" Luke asked, easing closer with a wicked little grin. "Tell me you're finally using the old noodle and that you've got something."

"I might have to get back to the bar," his son answered, looking toward the kitchen. "I'm not sure if I have the right equipment here. But if I do, we can get started pretty soon. You're only thinking Helena's yacht, right? Anyplace else?"

"At this point?" Luke shrugged. "Nope – the yacht's all we need. It's where she's based, it's where she conducts all her business. Everything we need to know is being said within those four floating walls."

"I should check the connection again," Lucky was muttering absently to himself. "I haven't checked in with Bunbury from France yet. If Helena just went public, then chances are that the World Security Bureau is already on it."

"Hoping for the invasion of Normandy, Cowboy?" Luke ran his fingers through his thinning hair, wondering if the WSB would send its covert ops team to the sleepy little town in upstate New York. "I wouldn't bet on it, but I wouldn't rule it out, either."

"What I'm thinking," Lucky clarified, "is that if Robert and Elizabeth are on the run, knowing that Helena assumes that they're dead, they're not just holding hands and skipping. They're up to something – just because they're not turning up anywhere on the connection doesn't mean that they're not working this."

"Like I said, Cowboy – we won't rule it out, but we won't sit on our tails and wait for the WSB to save our asses, either."

"The good thing," Lucky nodded, turning for the first time toward Sonny and Jason, "is that you and your family aren't directly in the crosshairs here. You're only important to Alcazar, and he's tripping over all the strings Helena's got attached to him because she doesn't want to kill you unnecessarily. She doesn't care about you guys – you're not part of the family. You might not even be in any direct danger, personally."

Sonny and Jason exchanged discreet glances, and the mob lord rubbed the corners of his mouth with his thumb and index finger. "…The thought had occurred to us."

_"Johnny!"_

The men jumped when they heard Carly's frantic yell from upstairs, having barely noticed when the blonde had slipped away to check on her son.

Sonny's wide eyes met his guard's, and Johnny instantly took off toward the staircase. Jason and Sonny followed, and Lucky made to go as well but Luke grabbed him by the arm, not wanting him to get in anyone's way.

A minute later, the Irishman was tearing down the steps with a tightly bundled up Michael in his arms. The boy's fever had shot up to dangerous levels and he had barely been breathing when his mother found him. Carly followed the guard as fast as she could but stumbled on the steps, and the young mother would have fallen had her husband not quickly snaked an arm around her waist.

Jason raced ahead and quickly flung the penthouse door open, alerting Alcazar's men who were stationed outside. They scowled and moved to restrain him, but Carly was quicker. Eyes blazing, the blonde leapt toward the first guard and grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him down toward her.

"My son – is sick," she got out through gritted teeth. "He's really, really sick and-"

The guard glanced at Michael, who lay slumped against Johnny's shoulder. "Look, Lady-"

"Listen, asshole," she seethed, tightening her grip on his shirt. "He's sick and he's going to the hospital _now_. So get out your fucking walkie-talkie and tell your friends to get a car ready. He's going _now_!"

The man looked down into her blazing eyes and finally let out a relenting sigh. Roughly brushing Carly's hands away, he stepped aside to let them pass and pulled out his cell phone, issuing orders to get a car ready.

Sonny and Jason followed with Max, and Luke and Lucky had already concealed themselves before the guards could see. The Spencer men remained behind in the empty penthouse as the mobsters ducked into a waiting car and sped to the hospital, all thoughts of Helena Cassidine falling to the wayside as they worried about an almost unconscious little boy tucked in between them.

---------------------

Sonny and Jason paced by the nurse's station, waiting anxiously for Carly to return with information. Bobbie had spotted them as soon as they had stepped onto the fourth floor, and even though it looked like the doctor hadn't slept in days, she immediately sprang forward when she saw her grandson's deteriorating condition. Carly had followed as Bobbie secured a gurney and wheeled the child in for tests, and that had been half an hour ago.

Finally, an orderly came up to them and told them that Michael Corinthos, Jr., had just been admitted to the ICU and gave them directions to his room. Sonny and Jason raced there with Johnny and Max in tow, ducking nurses and other patients in their mad dash.

Michael was lying weakly in the bed, his skin almost the same color as the sheets, and his red lashes barely fluttered when his father and uncle stepped into the room. Carly stroked his forehead compulsively, watching her mother carefully as Bobbie's red eyes scanned the charts she had been given.

She glanced up when Sonny stepped over to Carly's side, gently wrapping an arm around her waist, and licked her lips.

"How bad is it, Mama?"

The doctor fiddled with the clipboard, and Carly knew from the way her soft eyes trailed over Michael's face that the prognosis wasn't good. "I've been seeing numerous cases of this condition over the past few days," she murmured, gently stroking the back of the child's hand with two fingers. "It seems like everyone in town is coming down with it."

Sonny and Carly looked at each other, and the blonde swallowed roughly. "…But, what is it, Mama?"

"It's a virus," Bobbie replied heavily, finally meeting their gaze. "A virus that we've never seen before, and one for which we have no antidote."

«_Last Edit:_ Aug 7, 2006, 11:53am by Huma the Guma »


	34. 34

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 34**

He had lost track of how long he had been in the hospital, but as Jason wearily trudged down the hall to the elevator and passed his father, who only tipped his head at him grimly, he knew it had been too long. After all, if he could safely walk the corridors of General Hospital in plain sight and not be jumped on by his parents, his presence was nothing out of the ordinary to anyone.

The waiting center came into view first and he saw Johnny and Max pacing nervously by the overstuffed sofas that smelled vaguely of wholesale soap and dirty sneakers. They looked up as he approached and Jason simply lifted a hand, signaling to them that it was time to go. He'd take Johnny with him and leave Max at the hospital should Sonny or Carly need anything. Alcazar's men were stationed nearby as well, but Jason didn't spare them a glance.

Michael was resting in his bed, and his fever was still dangerously high. He remained mostly unconscious or asleep, and experienced fleeting moments of lucidity. Sonny and Carly sat by his side, waiting and worrying as the medical staff at General Hospital scrambled to learn all they could about the unknown virus.

"What's the plan, Jason?" Johnny wanted to know as soon as Jason came to a stop in front of him. "How's Mikey?"

The enforcer let out a heavy sigh and looked away. "Not too good. They brought his fever down a little with an alcohol bath, but nothing else has changed."

Max and Johnny shook their heads, each man saddened and worried by the news. "What do we do from here?"

"Max, I want you to stay at the hospital and check in with Sonny and Carly," Jason directed quietly, knowing that Alcazar's men had moved closer during the brief conversation. "Johnny, you and I are going to go back to Harborview and pick up a change of clothes and some other things for Carly."

The Irishman nodded, knowing that what Jason meant was that they'd also be checking in with Luke and Lucky and beginning the preliminary procedures of the plan they had discussed down to the last detail. "Okay, I'm ready when you are."

The enforcer nodded at Max and then motioned for Johnny to follow, already starting for the elevators a few feet away. He passed by a young nurse and jabbed at the button, standing back and waiting impatiently as it climbed up the shaft.

He was about to leap aboard just as the doors opened, but Jason managed to step back just in time to avoid colliding with Mac Scorpio as he raced toward the nurse's station.

"Doctor – I need a doctor!" he yelled hoarsely, adjusting an unconscious Georgie in his arms. Maxie and Felicia flew off the elevator to his side, looking around frantically for someone to help. "Hurry!"

"Noah Drake," a tall physician in a wrinkled white coat spoke up hurriedly, rushing forward to meet the Commissioner. "What happened?"

"She had the flu," Felicia tried to explain, barely managing to hold back her tears. "She was burning up and couldn't keep her food down and we gave her some Thermaflu and let her sleep it off."

Noah, one of the hospital's newest transfers and oldest veterans at the same time, was already checking Georgie's vitals and frowning, his dark eyes intensely troubled. "And then?"

Felicia choked back a sob and had to cover her mouth with her hand for a moment before she could speak. "I went to check on her a little while later with some tea, and I-I found her on the floor. She was con-convulsing and she wouldn't stop – I think she was having a seizure!"

Noah reached out absently without taking his eyes off the girl and managed to grab an orderly by the shoulder. He directed the young man to fetch a gurney and the orderly took off at a gallop and was soon wheeling one back. Together, Noah and Mac gently laid Georgie down on top as Felicia wrapped her arm around her other daughter's narrow shoulders and held her back.

Jason watched as the doctor exchanged a few words with the orderly and then helped wheel the gurney away. Mac asked Felicia to wait with Maxie while he went with Georgie and the blonde nodded, her arm still around her daughter's shoulder.

Next to him, Johnny let out a slow, strained breath as Noah and Mac disappeared from view with the gurney. Jason turned away from the scene numbly, his eyes suddenly connecting with Sonny's on the other side of the nurse's station. The two men stared at each other, suspended in time, their expressions of horror and dread perfectly identical.

-----------------------

_"I'm not waiting for you."_

Those were the first words Jason heard when he pulled his secure cellular phone out of his pocket. Lucky had been tinkering with it at the penthouse before Michael was brought in to GH and had managed to attach something to the inner circuitry that made the calls almost impossible to intercept – though they could be traced.

_"You're taking too long,"_ Luke continued. _"My great-nephew comes first, naturally, but I'm still not waiting for you. Cowboy and I got in touch with Ritchie, one of the guards on your list, and we got him in through the hatch. He's here right now, and we're going to go ahead with our plans."_

"O-Okay." Jason had to clear his scratchy throat before he could form another word. "You know how to get in touch with me if you need anything else."

_"We won't need anything else,"_ the old man informed him. _"You just take care of Michael and my niece. Word around town is that that everyone's coming down with the flu."_

"No one knows how large the range is - yet," Jason clarified, coughing into his fist. "So far, seven patients were admitted to GH with matching symptoms."

_"And?"_

"All of them children – the oldest is Georgie Jones."

He heard Luke sigh to himself on the other end. _"Children – their immune system isn't fully formed yet…"_ The old man trailed off then came back abruptly. _"Anything else?"_

"Georgie's having seizures, about ten hours apart. No one else is…yet."

_"…God damn. And Caroline?"_

"She's worried about Michael, but Bobbie and Sonny are making sure that she rests and eats."

_"No, I meant…do they know if this is going to affect her child? The new one?"_

Jason let out a hissing sigh. "No one knows much of anything right now," he replied quietly.

_"Okay. O-Okay. Call me if…if anything happens."_

With that, Luke terminated the call and Jason slipped his phone back into his pocket. At this point, he knew he had two choices: he could either go back to Harborview and put up with Luke and Lucky's craziness and fast-talking while they went ahead with their suicide mission, or he could stay with his family.

The decision was an easy one, but Jason thought it wise to make a trip to the cafeteria for the sandwiches that could pass as roofing tiles and the swill masquerading as coffee. He didn't know how long it had been since he or Sonny had eaten, but he figured they both needed to be strong and functioning at optimum abilities if they were going to be of any use to anyone.

Johnny was snatching a few minutes of sleep on the small sofa in the waiting center, so Max volunteered to help his boss bring up some food for the rest of their entourage. The two men started toward the nurses' station but once again, the elevators were occupied.

Max only barely managed to step back in time as the doors flew open and Reginald wheeled in an unconscious Edward Quartermaine. The young butler looked around frantically for a doctor – any doctor – as Alice pushed Lila's wheelchair out onto the main floor.

Jason stopped in his tracks, his stricken blue eyes darting first from his grandfather to his grandmother and then back again. Reginald yelled for a nurse who instantly recognized the newest patient and paged the Drs. Quartermaine immediately. Lila looked around, her normally placid blue eyes wide and harried, and the old woman relaxed slightly when she saw her grandson until she realized what his presence meant.

The enforcer was at his side before she even lifted her hand out to him. "Grandmother-"

"Oh, Jason, darling," she sighed, the anxiety evident in her strained voice as her old, weathered hands closed around his firm, strong one. "I would like to say that I'm glad you're here, but I cannot-"

"Lila!" Monica dashed around the corner, her straight blonde hair flying as she raced toward her in-laws. "Oh, Lila, what happened?"

"Mother?" Alan appeared from his office down the hall, making a beeline for his mother. "Mother, you shouldn't be here. The virus-"

"It's your father, dear," Lila explained somewhat unnecessarily, her hands still clasping Jason's. Reginald was helping two orderlies transfer an unconscious Edward to a gurney as Alan and Monica watched with trepidation. "He was in my drawing room when he just collapsed."

"Everything's going to be fine, Mother," Alan assured her gently, patting the top of her hand as Monica quickly arranged for a room. "We're going to run some tests and see how bad it is. Will you wait here with Jason? I'll call for you as soon as he's settled in."

"Very well, Alan," the Quartermaine matriarch replied reluctantly, her troubled eyes following her husband's prone form as he was wheeled away. Alan nodded to himself and squeezed her hand over Jason's before rising to his feet.

The enforcer remained crouching on the floor next to his grandmother's chair, and looked up to meet his father's grave brown eyes. Alan tipped his head once, a movement so slight that it would have gone unnoticed otherwise. Jason pursed his lips, acknowledging the gratitude in his father's somber eyes and the older man turned on his heel, his strides long and quick as he followed his wife down the hallway and out of sight.

Lila's hands trembled in his and Jason let out a slow sigh, turning his full attention toward her. "Grandmother, do you need anything? Can I get you some-"

She offered him a sad half-smile, looking down at their clasped hands. Her cheeks were flushed as she shook her head once, almost absently. "No, darling. I'm afraid I only need one thing right now…"

Jason looked away when her soft voice trailed off, concentrating now on the feel of her warm hands surrounding his. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"Oh, dear," Lila sighed heavily, withdrawing one hand from on top of his to cover her mouth. "I…I remember that he had been complaining of a sore throat for a few days. Alice had been bringing him lemon tea instead of his usual coffee in the mornings – he didn't like it, but she forbade anything else. Alan was persuading him to take an over-the-counter medication, but the pills always make him drowsy…"

The old woman shook her head, bringing herself back to the matter at hand. "He seemed so greatly improved this morning. I was in my drawing room when he came in and suggested that we have our afternoon tea out in the rose garden before the fall frost settles in. I was telling him of my plans to add an extension to the garden when he collapsed at my feet."

Jason squeezed her hand tightly, his own heart constricting at the tears in his grandmother's voice. It was no secret that there was no love lost between him and Edward, but he never wished ill on the old man only because he knew how much Lila loved him. Despite all the old man's faults, Lila still loved him.

"They're working on it," he informed her gently, not knowing how to make his words stop sounding so hollow. "Bobbie said that they don't know what the virus is right now, but it's affected several other people and they're running tests on it. They'll find out what it is, Grandmother."

She smiled at his attempt to reassure her and bravely patted his hand. "Oh, I know, darling. Edward's going to be just fine – he's a strong old goat."

Jason smirked at that for her benefit, and was momentarily relieved to see her blue eyes twinkle as she continued, "I'm afraid he's got too much blustering left to do to be laid up with this illness. You'll see, darling."

The enforcer smiled and nodded once, lifting his grandmother's pale, age worn hand to his lips. "I hope so, Grandmother."

For her sake, he hoped so.

-------------------------

"Mama!" Carly ran out of her son's hospital room, looking around frantically for her mother or anyone else who would be able to help. Down the hall, Sonny and Jason heard her calls and left their bodyguards to run back at full speed. They spotted the blonde in the hallway just as she set eyes on Doctor Noah Drake.

"Oh, please," she cried, grabbing hold of his arm as the older man rushed through the hall with a black binder under his arm. "You've got to help him – please!"

Without a word of protest or a moment's hesitation, Noah dropped the binder in the bin outside the door and hurried into the room after the woman just as Jason and Sonny appeared. He stopped stock-still when his dark brown eyes fell on the convulsing child in the massive bed, then kicked himself into motion.

"Nurse," he called out the door, rushing to the boy's side. "Get in here! He's gone into convulsions!"

A slender brunette in pink scrubs pushed roughly past Sonny and Jason in her haste to check on Michael. Noah pushed the emergency call button for more help as he gripped the small child as the convulsions began to subside. The nurse checked the machine and read off the numbers as the doctor pried open the boy's lids and peered at his dilated pupils before checking his heartbeat.

"Thank you, Joyce," he murmured, standing back as the nurse and two other orderlies took over. They set up a new drip for Michael and arranged him more comfortably in the bed now that he was still once more. With a heavy sigh, Noah turned back to the boy's family, not knowing how to explain what the terrified parents had just seen.

Sonny's arms were wrapped around Carly and Jason stood in front of them, partially shielding the weak blonde as she peered out at her son. Noah ran a hand through his chestnut hair and licked his lips. 

"What you just saw," he started quietly, "was a-"

"It was a seizure," Sonny interrupted in a small voice, his intensely troubled obsidian eyes resting on his remarkably pale son. "Wasn't it?"

Noah glanced back at the nurse, who pursed her lips in reply and returned to tending to the child. "Yes," he replied gently. "We've been seeing that in several of the other patients as well, and we have reason to believe that it comes from prolonged exposure to the virus."

"What- What's happening to him?" Carly whimpered quietly, breaking away from Sonny's hold when the nurse motioned that it was okay for her to come forth. Her trembling hands smoothed Michael's dull red hair back from his alabaster forehead as she peered up at Noah. "What's going on?"

"The illness is causing damage to his circulatory system," he explained grimly, motioning for the orderlies to leave and return to their busy schedule. "I'm going to try to say this as simply as I can: the virus is weakening the transportation of blood and nutrients through his blood stream. It's attacking the basic circulatory system, and the tests we've been running on this particular strain show that it might attack the respiratory system next. Because of this, his organs have to work even harder to keep his body functioning. This is putting incredible strain on his heart and other vital organs like the liver and kidney."

Michael whimpered, a sound so soft that it was almost lost among the hum of the machinery in the room. But Carly heard it, as mothers always do, and stroked his cheek gently as if beckoning him to open his eyes and rise.

"He's stable now, but the seizures have already started." Noah rubbed his eyes, trying to ease the dull throb at his temples. He was dead tired, but sleep had become a distant memory since this strange virus had surfaced and attacked Port Charles. "They will continue and grow closer in frequency, I'm afraid."

Jason's eyes darted from the boy to the doctor, his hands slowly curling into fists. "And there's nothing that anyone can do?"

The doctor shrugged wearily, finding himself once again repeating the same speech he had made numerous times in the past twenty-four hours. "As of yet, I'm afraid not. We're working as hard and as fast as we can to identify the virus, but it's a strain the like of which we've never seen before. At this point, we don't even have a host who's proving to resist the virus – otherwise, we'd be engineering an antibody. But I assure you that we're working as hard as we can to make sure that we defeat this."

Having nothing else to say, he nodded at the parents and the enforcer and shuffled out of the room. They heard him sigh heavily as the doctor stood still outside the door for a moment before quickly snatching up his black binder and taking off down the hall to check on his many other patients.

Carly had yet to take her eyes off her son. She sat on the edge of his bed, rhythmically and methodically stroking his hair. A silky red tuft would fall back into his forehead no sooner than she had brushed it away, and the renewed task kept her focused as she sat by the sick little boy's side.

Sonny sighed heavily and lowered himself carefully onto the foot of Michael's bed. His back ached and his throat was raw, but he remained thankful that he was at least in better shape than some of the other folks in the hospital at that same moment.

Still standing, Jason rubbed the back of his neck and closed his eyes. The sounds of the hospital floated in through the open door, and he listened to the hum of the machinery, the strained voices of the doctors rushing about, the nervous twitters of the nurses, the squeaks of the gurney wheels as yet more patients were wheeled in. 

Unable to take it any more, the enforcer opened his eyes and stalked forward a step, kicking the door shut with his heel. Sonny looked up at his best friend as Jason began to pace up and down the room, his steps marked with anxiety and agitation. Carly remained gazing down at Michael, her blonde hair falling into her eyes, and was the first to speak up.

"They knew the whole time."

Sonny shared a look with Jason before turning on the bed to face his wife who still wouldn't look up. "Who knew what?"

"Luke and Lucky." Carly lifted her face to him, revealing somber brown eyes partially shielded by a curtain of blonde hair. "They knew about Helena and Alcazar the whole time."

Her husband's dark brows furrowed. "I don't think-"

"I know what Luke looks like when he has something up his sleeve," she interrupted softly, tracing her son's lips with the pad of her thumb before gently tweaking his chin. "I know what he looks like when he thinks he's got one hand up on everyone else in the room. I've seen it before. He knew the whole time. And Lucky…"

"What about Lucky?"

Carly sighed softly, covering Michael's eyes with her hand as she looked up at Sonny and Jason. "Lucky looked so…guilty. He knew that Helena and Alcazar were working together long before that tape came. He knew, and he wanted to tell us but couldn't. And he looked so guilty. They both knew the whole time."

She slowly lifted her hand and tucked her son in carefully before rising from the bed and standing a few feet away. Her dull brown eyes moved from Sonny and Jason as the two men shared a knowing look, and then her husband surprised her by chuckling roughly.

"What the hell's so funny?"

Sonny was still grinning to himself as he picked a loose thread out of the sheets, flicking it away. Jason, too, was leaning back against the wall by the window, his eyes on his feet and a disbelieving little smirk making his lips twitch.

"…And here we were, thinking we were so damn smart."

Carly wasn't following. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"We figured that Helena was working with Alcazar to surround the town," Jason spoke up, his voice low in case anyone outside was passing too close. "We thought she'd want someone to conquer Port Charles for her so that finding Luke and Lucky would be like shooting fish in a barrel. There wouldn't be any place for them to run if the whole town was sealed off."

"And what better way to do that without bringing attention to herself than by staging a mob war?" Sonny picked up, gripping the cold metal rails at the foot of the bed. "Alcazar would drop in and make a lot of noise and distract everyone while she'd quietly move in on the Spencers."

"We didn't tell them," Jason murmured, almost to himself. "We didn't tell them, but they knew the whole time."

"They didn't tell us, either," Sonny pointed out, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice. In all likelihood, he should have been angry with Luke: the old man professed to want a policy of open disclosure and then intentionally withheld important information – or speculation, rather. But that was how Luke had always worked, and Sonny found that he couldn't fault his one time associate for that. "Not that it would have made much difference who knew what first."

Carly murmured her agreement, her watchful eyes resting on her son a few feet away.

"We need to get in touch with Luke," Sonny sighed heavily, running a hand through his wild black curls. "We need-"

"Can't do it now," Jason informed him. "He and Lucky are still working with Ritchie. They're supposed to call me when they get the wire in place."

"How'd they say they wanted to do it?" The mob boss shook his head, trying to remember his friend's maniacal plan. "Didn't they want Ritchie to get aboard the yacht when it docked for fuel?"

Jason was nodding. "It comes to shore every other day for fuel and supplies at exactly ten minutes after eight. They suited Ritchie up so that he looked like one of Helena's men and he's supposed to take out one of her guards and get aboard. Once there, he's supposed to find Andreas – her top guard – and bug him. Luke says that Helena doesn't do anything without Andreas lurking in the background, so he's the best walking wire we could ever have."

"You think it'll work?"

The enforcer shrugged at his partner. "I don't know. Luke thinks it will. So does Lucky – he's the one that came up with it. And Ritchie's real good at making pulls…used to be a pickpocket down in the Bronx before he came to us. He's probably the best one for the job."

"This Andreas guy – what do we know about him?"

"Luke didn't say anything much except that he's Helena's top guard," Jason answered. "He overseas the docking and all business aboard the yacht, and he runs her personal errands. She keeps him around as her companion when they're out in the harbor. And Elizabeth said…"

Sonny quirked a brow, curious now. "What did Elizabeth say?"

"…She said that Andreas' twin brother used to work for Helena, but then he upset her and so she killed him, and then Andreas took his place."

The kingpin gaped at his best friend, wondering for a brief moment if he was joking. But Jason didn't joke, and so it had to be the truth. "That doesn't surprise me at all, you know that?"

Sonny laughed to himself, rubbing the corner of his mouth with his thumb and index finger. "Carly, what was it that you used to say? That the Cassidines make the Manson family look like the Brady bunch? -Carly?"

Sonny and Jason both turned over their shoulders to glance at the quiet blonde who hadn't spoken in quite a while. But instead of finding her standing near Michael's bed, they found her sprawled out on the floor by the intravenous drip, unconscious.

"Carly!" In a flash, Sonny was by her side and lifting her up, trying to revive her. "Jason, get the doctor!"

The enforcer flung the door open and took off, hoping to find Noah or Bobbie nearby as Sonny cradled his wife's limp form in his arms, all amusement instantly forgotten.


	35. 35

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 35**

"She's okay…for now."

Sonny's eyes snapped up from his wife's sleeping form to meet those of her mother's. "What do you mean? What's going to happen?"

Bobbie sighed softly, her weariness evident as she smoothed back her daughter's rough and slightly frizzy blonde hair. "She's resisting the virus," she replied quietly, her voice laced at the same time with relief and dread.

"That's good," Sonny protested, looking questioningly at his mother-in-law. "Isn't that good?"

The doctor nodded, weakly at first but then with increasing conviction. "Yes, that's very good. She's strong, and her body is fighting back the virus."

"So she's going to get better, right?" Sonny gently cupped his wife's pale cheek, his heart leaping to his throat when she murmured and turned her face into his palm. It took him a moment to clear his throat before he could speak again. "Right?"

Tears pricked Bobbie's eyes and Jason watched as her hand moved to cover her daughter's. "No one's getting better, Sonny. They're all only getting worse."

"But you just said she's resisting-"

"She's had a sustained fever for quite a while, you said, and it's only climbing," Bobbie interrupted regretfully. "At this point, all of her energy is being directed at maintaining homeostasis of the fetus. I'm going to have Dr. Meadows on hand to monitor her and the baby as closely as we can, but we have no idea what to expect in a case like this. So far, she's the only pregnant case on record to come down with the virus."

Sonny clenched his eyes shut, trying to process the news without giving in to the worst-case scenario. "No one knows anything about this yet? No one knows how-"

"We're working as fast we can," the doctor replied, trying not to give in to her tears as she watched her daughter's restlessly sleeping form. "We thought we had a breakthrough about four hours ago, but…we were wrong. At this point, we're hoping that the quarantine in effect will prevent more outbreaks, but it's impossible to know how many people have been exposed to the early stages of the virus."

She swiped at her eyes, not wanting to be seen crying in front of her son-in-law and Jason. Sonny nodded along to all that she said, knowing that Bobbie wasn't giving him phony reassurances. She was Carly's mother, after all, and he trusted her to be straight with him.

"I'll be checking in as often as I can," she continued, looking from Sonny to Jason as they stood between Carly and Michael's beds. "And I'll let you know as soon as I can if we find anything. The best thing that you two can do is stay inside the hospital – the quarantine is in effect and we're trying to stop all traffic."

Sonny nodded, clasping his mother-in-law's hand between his own. "Thank you, Bobbie."

She offered him a tearful half-smile, refusing to let herself entertain the thought that another one of her daughters would die in this hospital. "Thank me when we find an antidote."

----------------------------------------------------

"If my grandson needs anything, I expect to be the first to know," Alan Quartermaine informed Sonny as he and Jason stood with Monica to the side of the nurse's station. "I'll do whatever I can to make sure that he and his mother are taken care of."

"We appreciate it, Alan, thank you," Sonny replied solemnly as Jason stared at Alcazar's guards who were also stationed nearby. "Was there any breakthrough with the virus recently?"

Monica shook her head, pulling out the lab reports that Noah Drake had passed along to her and some of the other physicians on the floor. "All we know is that this virus multiplies rapidly," she began, skimming the typeface as her husband looked on. "Its ideal breeding condition exists at one-hundred-and-three degrees Fahrenheit."

"There are no immediate symptoms when the host first contracts the virus," Alan continued as Maxie Jones, who had just collapsed in the waiting room, was wheeled by on a gurney. Monica shared a meaningful look with Felicia, clasping her hand briefly as the mother quickly followed her child.

"The host has virtually no way of knowing when he has been exposed," the chief of staff continued. "The virus stays in the bloodstream, multiplying slowly at normal body temperature. As the virus increases in number, the temperature of the body rises and the host experiences brief flu-like symptoms. As the body's temperature increases, the virus' rate of replication increases."

"The symptoms abate for a brief duration of time," Monica picked up once more, looking directly at her son who was listening carefully to the information she had to offer. "The host feels better, the fever goes down slightly, the malaise eases up, and congestion is also alleviated."

"But then the symptoms recur with increasing severity." Alan's grim dark eyes followed two orderlies as they raced yet another patient to one of the few remaining vacated rooms. 

"The host cannot keep down food which further weakens the body. The temperature rises steadily and the virus continues to replicate steadily-"

"Exponentially," Monica corrected heavily.

"-and that's when the brainstem is affected," her husband continued. "We've got Patrick Drake, our newest neurosurgeon, working on the research as well and he's given us the best information that he possibly can considering that we have no previous records of this virus existing anywhere. The seizures begin, far apart at first but growing closer and closer together. Eventually, if our results are conclusive, the host goes into cardiac arrest and experiences total organ shutdown. The brainstem follows soon after that and…that's the end."

"And there's nothing that can stop this?" Sonny asked, feeling like he had been repeating himself over and over since they brought Michael in. "I don't know much about this, but aren't there antibodies-"

"Antibodies can be found in a host that is successfully defeating the virus," Alan replied, ushering them all toward a more secluded corner as several more patients were rushed by. "Once we find a host such as that, we will begin drawing blood and marrow samples – anything we can take – to see how the body is combating the strain. When we isolate whatever's responsible for that, we'll culture it and replicate it. That's how an antidote is made."

"But we haven't found any host that's actively defeating the virus yet," Monica sighed, brushing her limp blonde hair out of her face. "Several patients – all adults – appear to be weakly _resisting_ the virus, but it's not the same. Hopefully, though, we'll come across something and soon. The virus is more potent in children, it seems. Adults take longer to develop symptoms and begin the degenerative process."

"However, we have reason to believe that diet, genetic makeup and the history of illness are factors as well," Alan added, coughing into his fist. "We're doing our best to discover all that we can about this strain. At this point, it's become a race against time."

"A lot of our patients can't handle the seizures," Monica informed them quietly, thinking of her own father-in-law. "The ones that are older, especially. Their bodies won't be failing from the seizures and organ shutdown; they'll most likely succumb to the fever long before that."

The chief of staff took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes wearily. The days spent toiling in the hospital, trying to fight this virus and keep affairs in order, were taking their toll on him. He hadn't slept, he hadn't eaten, the empty rooms were rapidly filling up, his own father appeared to be on his deathbed, and so far they had nothing in terms of a cure.

Jason nodded to himself, scrubbing a hand over his mouth. "Bobbie said that the virus would also attack the circulatory system-"

His mother nodded as if having read his mind. "That's true. In that case, which we have yet to see but every reason to prepare for, the patient will immediately be placed on life support that will take over the main body functions and hopefully buy us some more time."

Alan nodded along, glancing at his watch and then the two men. "We shouldn't have spent so much time here; we're needed elsewhere. But if Michael needs anything, let me know. I have to get back to the lab; Monica, you have rounds."

His wife sighed and glanced at her watch as well. "Have you two had your blood drawn yet?" She licked her lips when they nodded. "Good. Good – we're doing our best to draw samples and run tests on everyone in the hospital. The more samples we have, the better our research and the closer we'll be to some answers. There are countless people in the hospital right now who are showing very early signs of the virus. One of them might hold the key to the antidote."

"In the meantime," Alan interrupted, pointing to the two men, "neither of you are to leave. The hospital is under strict quarantine. We're trying our best to contain this; it's highly contagious and until we have some answers, no one gets out. Anything that you need will be provided for you - _here_. Is that clear?"

Sonny and Jason exchanged glances, knowing that there were certain things that neither the chief of staff nor the lowest orderly could provide for them. But the two men nodded curtly anyway, standing by solemnly as the doctors exchanged a few words with a passing nurse and prepared to depart.

"I have to go check on Audrey and Mac's family," Monica murmured, adjusting her stethoscope. "You heading to the lab?"

Alan nodded. "I'll see if they have anything, then I have patients in the East wing that require my attention. After you're done with your rounds, sit with Father, won't you? You'll be able to take a break before our next set of rounds."

Monica agreed silently and took her husband's arm. "Come on, I'll walk you to the lab. Sonny, Jason."

The two men nodded at the doctors as they walked briskly down the hall, flanked by a few nurses. The group disappeared around the corner and Jason turned uneasily toward Sonny. 

"There's no way we're staying here."

His boss was nodding absently. "There are a few uncovered exits – through the morgue and the basement. I'm pretty sure that they're not monitored because they rarely are. If we need to, we'll use those."

"_I'll_ use those," Jason clarified. "You stay here with Carly and Michael. They need you. I'm going to be the one checking back with Luke and making rounds."

Sonny nodded in reluctant agreement. "Any word from Luke about the plan?"

"Yeah – they're in. I meant to tell you earlier-"

The mob boss waved it away, unconcerned because he knew why the information was delayed in the relay. "That's fine. So they have the wire set up? Ritchie did it?"

"Ritchie did it," his enforcer agreed. "Got in, bugged Andreas and then got out. It was very smooth – Luke was impressed."

"He'll get used to it," Sonny grunted. "Our men are good."

"They said they'd be in touch if they found anything, but the connection isn't that good in the hospital," Jason continued. "Especially since they're using Lucky's computer to send the messages. If Helena or Alcazar had the penthouse bugged before you even staged your death, there's no way our phone lines are left untouched."

"If they said they'd be in touch, they'll be in touch," Sonny sighed, running a hand through his curly black hair. "All we can do is wait."

Jason scowled, edgy and anxious within the confines of the hospital. Wait – that was all they could do anymore. No one had answers, no one had plans; no one had anything that was of any use.

Meanwhile, Michael was lying unconscious on a hospital bed, as pale as a sheet, and his mother and unborn sibling slept next to him, both of them doing their best to fight off the mystery virus. He knew the doctors were doing all they could, but that just wasn't good enough.

The only thing left to hope for was that Robert and Elizabeth had uncovered something. Lucky had no idea where the two of them were, which wasn't surprising but still frustrating. After all, if Helena thought that she had killed them then it wouldn't do any good for them to pop up on the server and send Luke a message. They had a better chance of helping if they stayed low and let Helena believe the rouse.

But that was all assuming that Robert and Elizabeth even knew about the situation at home. They were most likely still running around the world trying to find out why Helena wanted a ruby necklace so badly in the first place. At most, they knew that she was involved in Port Charles if they kept in touch with the World Security Bureau. But there was no way for the necklace and the illness at home to connect, so he had little way of knowing how useful the two of them would be.

Still, Jason hoped that they would make it back to Port Charles in the very near future. He didn't care much for the circus that would ensue when the citizens of the sleepy little town found out that their legend, the great Robert Scorpio who put James Bond to shame, was still alive and had been faking his death for the past twelve years, but he cared deeply about seeing Elizabeth again.

Not having any contact with her for so long was slowly driving him insane. He kept flashing back to their last night in the hotel room, after they had solved their problems and discussed the upcoming battle. He remembered how worried she was the night they got Sonny's phone call, and how she had held on to him so tightly right before he left.

He should have told her that he loved her then. There was no reason not to, but he hadn't. And he hadn't heard the same sentiments in return, not even on the DVD when Helena's henchman had prompted Elizabeth to utter them. It was selfish, but those three words would have provided at least some comfort or warmth in the long and cold days and nights alike in the infected town of Port Charles.

Jason sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. Countless patients had been admitted in the past twenty-four hours. Mac's entire family had succumbed to the virus and was crammed into one room as the commissioner frantically searched for answers, relaying back and forth with his team on the outside. Audrey Hardy had collapsed while at the nurse's station and was asleep in her room. Edward was still unconscious, and Jason's young cousin Dillon had been brought in practically delirious with fever. Sonny's sister Courtney had recently brought AJ in and now sat vigilantly by his bedside. She wasn't the only wife praying for her husband to fight back against the virus.

More patients would be coming within the next twenty-four hours.

Sonny stuffed his hands back into his pockets, preparing to return to his wife and son now that there was no new information to be found. Johnny and Max were watching out for Carly and Michael and would join Jason when he decided to venture out into the town. They were running the risk of infecting other people with the virus, but they'd have to be careful and do it anyway. There simply wasn't any alternative if they hoped to find the answers they needed.

The mob boss was just about to leave when Jason stiffened, feeling his phone buzz in his pocket. Sonny's solemn eyes were on him as the enforcer pulled it out and flipped it open, holding it to his ears and hoping that it was Luke on the other end.

He was close – it was Lucky. He could hear the boy's voice clearly for a moment, but Jason still couldn't believe what came out of his mouth next.

_"It's in the water."_

And then the line went dead.


	36. 36

**The Battle of Who Could Care Less – 36**

Georgie Jones' seizures were five hours apart, like clockwork. They had her strapped to the bed and placed a rubber bit in her mouth in anticipation of the next attack. Michael's were almost seven hours apart in frequency but milder in severity than Georgie's. AJ was still unconscious but thankfully had not started to have seizures. Dillon wasn't so lucky; his were six hours apart and fierce. Carly was doing well, which was a relief. The blonde was alert and active, though Sonny wouldn't let her leave the hospital room she shared with her son. Edward's condition was worsening rapidly and Monica's prediction appeared to be correct. The old man wouldn't pass on due to the organ shutdown and cardiac arrest; the fever would get him long before that.

Jason shifted against the doorjamb, as of yet unheard, as he watched his grandmother sit by Edward's bedside. She held his hand, stroking the top around the intravenous needle that had been taped there. Edward slept on, periodically emitting frightened murmurs and small, choked groans. And still Lila sat, talking to him in her gentle, almost musical but very weary voice that offered the same reassurance and comfort as a mother's lullaby.

"There, there, darling," she murmured, her age-worn hands engaging his in as tight a hold as the old woman could manage. Jason frowned, noticing that her normally strong, clear voice was thin and breathless.

"I know you're in pain, Edward," she continued quietly, not knowing that she was being watched. Her back was turned toward Jason, who only received the slightest sliver of her profile, which was why the enforcer didn't see her slightly flushed cheeks and bright, hazy eyes.

If he had seen, he might have guessed that his grandmother was exhibiting early signs of the virus. Her fever had already started and she had been warm for a day or two before it began to climb steadily, dangerously. But the cough hadn't started yet and so her illness went unnoticed which was just fine with Lila, who preferred to sit by her husband's side than lie in her own bed halfway across the room. As always, the old woman knew exactly where and how she was needed most. And Lila never disappointed.

"I know it's hard," she added. "I don't know what you're thinking right now, dearest, but I need you to know what _I'm_ thinking."

An orderly rushed through the hallway behind Jason, more lab results in his hands that needed to be in Dr. Quartermaine's as soon as possible. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear Noah arguing with his son about the virus' effects on the brainstem, neither one prepared to back down one inch from his professional opinion.

But Jason stood still, his eyes focused singularly on his tired grandmother as she continued to hold Edward's hand and offered him her unsurpassable strength the best way she knew how.

"If you need to go, Edward, don't hesitate on my account. For I fear, darling, that I won't be very far behind you."

Jason's heart constricted painfully in his chest and a fresh wave of tears made his eyes sting. But Lila didn't notice, for her attention was occupied first and foremost with her husband. 

"Don't you worry about leaving me behind. I always told you that I would follow you wherever you went, however I possibly could…and I meant it. I love you, darling, and I will always remain with you."

It was too much for him and Jason turned on his heel, letting the door click quietly shut behind him, the sound instantly lost in the frenetic hum of the hospital that was poised on the edge of destruction. A chasm was opening at his feet and there was no way to make it across.

Closing a hand over his eyes, Jason slumped against the window and slowly slid to the floor. His grandmother had once told him that she never intended to give up on life, and that she knew where she was needed – with her insufferable, dysfunctional, perfect family - and that kept her going. And as always, Lila knew where she was needed. Edward would have nothing to fear as he lay in that bed: not when his wife held his hand the entire way down.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, not bothering to stem the tears that coursed slick paths down his rough cheeks. At that moment, he would have given anything – _anything_ – to be able to hold Elizabeth's hand and tell her the same thing.

But he couldn't – because she wasn't here, and he didn't want her to be. He was already infected with the virus; according to Lucky, the whole town was. Elizabeth remained safe, untouched, and that was the only thing that made any of this bearable.

He remained seated where he was with no intention to move. The orderlies and nurses paid no attention to him as they raced through the winding corridors of the hospital like ants, relaying messages, conveying results, tending to the sick, and doing their best to keep moving because with stagnancy came hopelessness. They didn't stop to inquire about the young man in the motorcycle boots and the old jeans who sat on the polished tiles directly under the harsh fluorescent lighting.

After all, he was just one of many trying to deal with the ramifications of the deadly scourge the best _he_ knew how.

-------------------------------------------------------

Luis Alcazar was a man among men. He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and used to nothing but the absolute finest that life had to offer. When there was something he wanted, he didn't waste time asking questions: he simply took it.

It had always been that way, with money, power, territory, and women. Nothing was out of his reach; nothing was ever over the top. If he set his sights on it, it was as good as his. And no one ever stood in his way.

Luis Alcazar was a man that fashioned himself as invincible, and he wore it well. There was a deadly charm in his every measured footfall; the charm and irresistibility of a man who knew nothing of his limits and didn't care to. Life had been very kind to him, but he wasn't about to repay the favor.

Death was a necessary part of life, as far as he knew, just like loss and need. Watching the life slowly fade from the eyes of one of his victims didn't so much as make him flinch; it never did. Death and loss were entirely natural and necessary; if he were to get what he wanted, someone would lose it. If he didn't get what he wanted in an expedient manner, someone would most likely die as a direct result.

And that was why he didn't care much for the fate of Port Charles as it twinkled at him across the harbor. He stood at the starboard of his white yacht, the _Sofia Querida_, surveying his conquered territory as the boat floated in the inky black waters off the coast of the town. The docks were barely visible in the darkness, but he could clearly make out the outlines of the warehouses formerly owned by the Corinthos-Morgan outfit.

They were the most valuable of his newly acquired assets. And as usual, he had decided that he wanted them and had moved in for the acquisition. Help had been generously provided and Luis was quite pleased with the way the entire ordeal had worked out. It would have been more personally satisfying to him if he had been allowed to kill the Corinthos family, but it was all in good time.

He had been rather skeptical at first when Helena Cassidine had approached him. She was an old, withered woman that carried with her the grace and deadliness of a fallen queen. But her offer had proved irresistible: she would give him the resources to surround the town and control it in any manner he wished while her men rounded up Luke Spencer.

And he didn't care one bit what happened to the citizens of Port Charles. Several vigilantes that had dared to stand up to his men had already been disposed of and as he watched the distant lights twinkle, he knew there would be many more that would follow suit. As soon as Helena had Luke Spencer in her possession, he was fairly confident that she'd allow him to do as he wished with the rest of the hostages. And he had a bloodbath in the works: Corinthos' days were numbered, and he was eagerly counting down.

Taking one last pleased look at the town, Luis turned and strolled across the deck. His meeting had run a little late, but he was finally back aboard the _Sofia_ and it was time to head below for a late dinner.

She'd be waiting for him, as she always was, dressed in a long white embroidered dress that complemented her warm golden skin tones and provided excellent contrast with her dark hair. He'd have his customary whiskey, she'd have white wine, and they would discuss the events of their days. It was one of the few dependable, pleasant moments of his days and he was certain to enjoy it tonight as he always did.

Two of his guards were idly conversing by the staircase as Luis descended and they handed him an additional folder with recently obtained information on both Helena and Corinthos. Luis tucked it under his arm as he always did and ducked into his study as he usually did before dinner, heading straight for the wet bar.

But tonight was special so instead of filling only a shot glass with his liquor of choice, the arms dealer decided to indulge in a glass of scotch. The ice tinkled as he walked out of the study, heading straight for her quarters. She would be ready and expecting him, most likely reading one of her fashion magazines as she waited for him to escort her to dinner.

He stopped when he reached her door and switched his glass to the other hand, lifting his to knock twice. Luis waited, not hearing her rushing toward the door to let him in, then knocked again.

Mildly annoyed, he dropped his hand to the knob, turning it easily since he had long since removed the lock from her door. He opened it slowly in case she was pulling it open herself simultaneously, but it was soon clear that she wasn't.

Her lights were dimmed when he stepped in and looked around, listening to discern whether she was merely in the washroom. But there was no sound in the room except for the waves as they lapped gently against the side of the boat in a reassuring rhythm.

But there was nothing reassuring about the sight that lay before him, and Luis' glass of scotch hit the carpet with a thud, sploshing out its amber contents when he found her sprawled out on the floor, unconscious.

----------------------------------------------------------------

A small music box played in the background as Helena Cassidine sat on her lush armchair, her eyes slowly swinging back and forth between Luis Alcazar's pitiful little yacht and the weakened town of Port Charles.

The Cassidine Queen folded her fingers over her cane, caressing the large emerald amulet at the top. Port Charles was usually such a sleepy little hamlet, but not so tonight. For even though the lights twinkled lazily as they always did, she knew that not a soul in town was asleep.

No, they were all racing about frantically trying to find relief and respite from the horrible scourge she had unleashed upon them. It was one of her most triumphant moments: to see the normally proud little town sitting so lonely – so like a widow – on the dark, ominous waters of the harbor, poised to teeter into the bottomless abyss.

The streets that had once been filled with people were now empty, bereaved. Not a soul dared to come out, cowering from the nameless destruction that prowled the little alleys and friendly subdivisions with individually painted mailboxes. But despite that, she could sense the underlying frenetic anxiety as the entire town hummed and vibrated, trying furiously to save itself from annihilation.

She chuckled to herself, leaning back in the majestic chair. Try as they might, it would never work. No one would be safe – no one would find solace – until Luke Spencer was delivered to her yacht.

Her message had already been aired throughout the town and there was no mistaking her intention at this point. She had been very clear: Luke Spencer, or their lives. The ultimatum had been cryptic at best at that point, but not so anymore.

For now, she had no reason to believe that there was a single person in town who wasn't aware of the deadly virus that her men had transported along Luis Alcazar's newly acquired shipping routes and spilled into the water supply. They'd be dying by the dozen, and the popularity that the Spencers enjoyed wouldn't last very long.

No, the same town that championed their cause against her darling son Stavros and herself would soon rise, weakened from the illness but nevertheless determined – determined to bargain for their own lives with the lives of the Spencers. And she wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

This time, there was no one to get in her way. Alcazar was clueless – a bumbling fop too focused on wealth and land to grasp the bigger picture. He was a petty little child into whose hand she had placed a shiny sixpence, and he'd wandered off to admire it and left her to her work. He was a charming sycophant at best and a nuisance at worst, but she could easily tolerate him – and dispose of him when she couldn't.

Luke and Lucky, her worthy foes, were in hiding. They were most likely holed up in that disgusting bar of theirs or still hiding in full view at Harborview Towers. Try as they would, and surely they made a brave effort always, the Spencer men simply didn't think big enough. They might put up some resistance with Luke's many connections and Lucky's technologically advanced ways, but even they had to know that they were only delaying the inevitable.

She would win, no doubt about that. This time, neither Luke nor Lucky had been able to see ahead and predict her next moves in that annoying way of theirs. They had fared admirably in Aguascalientes, but they had been four steps behind.

Elizabeth was the one she had underestimated. She knew that the girl was stationed in Calvillo but had chosen not to let that insipid Marco in on it. Instead, she was curious to see what the young woman thought she was doing. Elizabeth had proven far more courageous than Helena had ever given the little snip credit for – she had managed to not only find the necklace but smuggle it out of the country. It was the same necklace that Helena now wore around her own neck, and it glistened harshly in the dim golden light.

Little Elizabeth and that tired old Robert Scorpio had been easy enough to thwart. They had made their first mistake: they had underestimated her manpower and her scope. They had assumed that they were safe to conduct their pathetic research when her men were only two steps behind them, and it had proved their undoing.

It had been a shame to kill Elizabeth; after all, it would have been much more fun to watch her trade in her beloved Spencers for the well-being of herself and her slack-jawed, dead-eyed boyfriend, the insufferable Jason Morgan or whatever he was calling himself these days.

But she had to admit that things were neater this way. With the inconsequential but spirited brunette out of the way, blown into the Portuguese sky with her James-Bond-companion, a few messy little loose ends were tied up.

As usual, Sonny and Jason would prove ineffectual and weren't a threat at all. They had paid their price at her hands, and after she had Luke she was sure that Alcazar would get rid of them. Not that it mattered at all to her; Sonny and Jason were unimportant, piddling little men and she wouldn't bat a lash if they were living or deceased.

Her darling Nikolas, misguided young man that he was, would also be unable to put a stop to her plans. The dear boy was being held at Wyndemere, safely out of harm's way. The launch delivered fresh drinking water to him among other supplies every day so that he would remain untouched and the waterlines had been disconnected from those of the town's and attached to a separate supply. Her darling grandson, Stavros' own, would remain untouched by the deadly virus she had unleashed upon his worthless friends in Port Charles.

Andreas moved slowly in the background, brushing dust off the tiny music box on the decorated mantle before once again creeping into the shadows. She did so adore his silent, stealthy ways. In the darkness, she found his glittering black eyes and smiled slowly, wickedly.

It wouldn't be long now. Luke Spencer would soon be delivered to her doorstep. The battle would be over, the war won.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

The inky black water of the Port Charles harbor, contaminated to the last molecule, rose and rippled. But the strange movement was lost in the mass of waves and escaped even the most careful scrutiny. The disruption in wave pattern had not been caused by wind; indeed, it was as dead and breezeless a summer night as they came. Nor was it caused by fish, for those had long since migrated away or died, floating belly-up to the surface.

Still, the watchmen aboard both yachts didn't notice it. The stars twinkled from a distance, casting their pristine light on the jagged waves and reveling in the reflection. Water splashed onto the wood as a figure grasped the edge of the docks, using a foothold underneath the waves to hoist himself up. Another soon followed, but caused a smaller disruption.

The large puddle on the otherwise dry wood was larger now and quite conspicuous, but neither traveler paid that any mind. The first leapt onto the planks once there was no other in sight and nimbly darted into the shadows. The second followed as always, stopping only to drop a trinket into a large knothole in one of the wooden posts.

In one fluid motion the second figure disappeared as well, as if having dematerialized and vanished altogether. Not a sound was heard on the docks other than the quiet chirp of the crickets and cicadas, but something had shifted already that would undoubtedly aid the despairing town in its desperate struggle.

Robert and Elizabeth were back.

« _Last Edit:_ Aug 7, 2006, 11:38am by Huma the Guma »


	37. 37

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 37**

Bobbie Spencer rounded the corner and stepped into the corridor leading down to the nurse's station, finally back from her trip to the lab with Noah, and her emerald eyes immediately landed on a young man sitting by a hospital room with his nose pinched between his hands.

Jason looked up when he heard the squeak of her sneakers and quickly clambered to his feet. His eyes were dry now but still red, and he fell into step with the doctor as she hurried down the hall to deposit some charts at the nurse's station before heading off to start her rounds.

"Any news?"

She slid him a sidelong glance, noting his quick, jerky movements. "I could ask you the same thing."

He dipped his head once, a movement so slight that it would have been imperceptible had she not been watching him out of the corner of her eyes. "I got a call from your nephew a little while ago."

Bobbie reached out and discreetly pinched the cuff of his t-shirt, prompting him to follow as she abruptly turned the corner and headed away from the busy nurse's station. Jason remained in step with her as they headed away from the hub of the hospital into quieter hallways.

The doctor glanced around to be sure that no one was listening in; after all, her brother was a wanted man. "What are they up to now?"

"They're trying to get some information," he answered, his voice as low as hers.

"And?"

"The virus is in the water supply."

Bobbie missed a step, stumbling slightly before picking up speed and attempting to look as if nothing had happened. Jason sneaked a sidelong glance at her but the doctor offered him only her rigid profile, her hard green eyes staring straight ahead.

"The whole town's infected."

Jason nodded curtly. "For a while now."

"And no one knew any sooner because everyone was going through the invisible preliminary stages," she cursed, tucking a stray lock of dulled auburn hair behind her ear.

Her scrubs rustled together as they rounded another corner, this time heading toward the administrative hallway where he knew his father worked. "The quarantine's no use."

"No."

"-The entire town will be within these four walls soon enough," she sighed, pressing her fingertips to her temple and wondering how this could possibly end well for any one of them. "I'll talk to Alan. We'll draw samples immediately and see what we can do. Thank you, Jason."

He tipped his head, once, as they approached a fork in the hallway. "Thank me when you find the antidote," came the quiet reply as the two turned on their heels and headed in opposite directions.

-------------------------------------------------------

"I understand that you're worried about Luke and Lucky," Alan stated in a calm, somewhat strained voice as his wife, son and Bobbie hovered around him. "And I can assure you that the secret is safe. I dropped a few hints around Patrick Drake, prompting him to wonder if the virus was exhibiting such a wide scope because it had pervaded the city's water supply, and the interns ran off to do samples. Mac's got the PCPD on it as well."

"I appreciate it, Alan," Bobbie thanked him solemnly. "The symptoms are getting more and more severe by the hour and if Luke's not careful, the people of Port Charles will be tearing the town down trying to find him and turn him over. I don't want anything to happen to my brother."

"Nothing will," Monica assured her. "This stays between the four of us. Jason, are you sure he didn't say anything more?"

Her son shook his head. "All Lucky said was that it's in the water. It's hard for me to get in touch with them, so I'll have to wait until they call back. But that's what we know now – that Helena Cassidine poured the virus into the water supply. We don't know when-"

"But we do know how," Alan muttered dryly, thinking already of Luis Alcazar and what Helena had said about him.

Jason understood the veiled barb but the enforcer offered nothing more to it.

"If Lucky has any more information, please pass it along," his mother told him, gently placing her hand on his forearm. "We could use all the help we can get."

"I'll let you know," Jason promised, spying Sonny coming up from down the hall.

"The quarantine is no longer in effect," his father sighed, pulling off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. Monica took them from him and gently wiped the lenses before handing them back to him.

"There's no point anymore," Alan continued as he put them on. "If the entire town is infected, it doesn't matter who gets in or who gets out of General Hospital. If anything, we have to prepare for even more patients."

"How bad is it?" Sonny asked quietly, slipping his hands into his pockets as he took his place in between Monica and Jason.

"We're down to our last four available rooms," the chief of staff informed him gravely. "The staff had orders to assign two to three patients to a room wherever possible, but that's simply not good enough anymore."

"Where will they go?" the mob boss wondered aloud. "Are you going to send them to Mercy-"

He knew it was a foolish question before it fully left him and Monica was already shaking her head. "We're not going to risk infecting any other hospital. Our patients stay here; all transfers have been halted until further notice."

"We'll have to start putting them in the hallways," Bobbie lamented, answering his question. "In the staff lounge, in the hubs, wherever we can find space."

"We'll be short on physicians and nurses as well," Alan added, turning wearily to stare at the nurse's station where his staff was somehow managing to stay on its feet. "We already are. I don't know what we're going to do."

"For our sake, I hope Luke comes up with some answers soon," Monica sighed, closing her eyes tightly as she leaned back against the wall.

"He will," Bobbie assured her friend and colleague. "Luke always escapes unharmed, and he'll pull the rest of us along with him."

"He's working on it now," Sonny agreed quietly, exchanging discreet glances with Jason. "No one knows Helena Cassidine better than Luke. He'll play her game and he'll win – he's already on it."

"And what about you?" Alan asked, directing a bland stare in the mob boss' direction. "What about you and Jason – are you on it, too?"

Despite the strain of the past seventy-two hours, the corner of Sonny's mouth twitched, hitching upward as his obsidian eyes twinkled. "You know how hard it is for us to sit something like this out."

Alan chuckled humorlessly, his chest rising and falling once with the expulsion of air as the doctor turned away from his motley crew. "Well, then. Luke has Helena, we have the town, and you have Luis Alcazar. Working together, we've got all our bases covered."

An ironic smile made Monica's lips curl and Jason watched as his mother wearily shook her head and dropped a hand on her husband's shoulder. "I bet you never thought you'd say _that_, Alan."

"Don't tell Mac," came the amused reply as Alan watched the commissioner talk seriously with a few of his men across the hub. "He'd have me arrested for the sentiment alone."

"Yes, I'm afraid he would," Monica chuckled, also watching the commissioner. With a sigh, she sobered up and turned back to the group. "We'll make the announcement and move on from there. Thank you for the information, Jason. Bobbie, I'm going to need your help with-"

The doctor's directions were interrupted by a man's yell, and the group looked over to see Luis Alcazar himself step off the elevator with a young woman in his arms.

"Doctor," he called out, looking around frantically as his guards instantly flanked him. "I need a doctor! Now!"

Bobbie gasped, and she and Monica instantly turned to Sonny and Jason. The Cuban stared at his nemesis with hard, calculating eyes and Jason backed him up solidly. But Alcazar paid them no attention as he adjusted the woman tenderly in his arms and looked harshly up at a dark-haired doctor that came running up.

"Patrick Drake," he introduced, his dark eyes only on the woman as he moved closer to inspect her. "What happened?"

"She collapsed in her bedroom," Alcazar responded, reluctantly letting Patrick take her from his arms after the young doctor called out for a gurney. "I don't know how long she was unconscious – I just found her on the floor."

"I'm going to have another doctor manage this case," Patrick replied, situating the young woman in his arms. Her face rested in the cavern of his neck and he had looped one of her slender arms around his neck. "I'm a neurosurgeon – I have other cases at the moment that require immediate-"

"No," Alcazar barked, slicing his hand through the air as an orderly approached. "If you're a neurosurgeon, you'll be taking care of her. She has a rare mental condition and is on medication. I will pay you ten times what you ask if you make sure that she has her own room and is the first to receive the antidote."

Patrick's dark eyes narrowed into slits. "Let me tell you something, Mr. Alcazar. This isn't going to work here."

The arms dealer balked at him, then eased a step closer to the brash young man. "And let me tell you something, Mr. Drake."

"-Doctor."

"-I always get what I want. And right now, I want you to make sure she recovers as quickly as possible. I have the power to make your life extremely uncomfortable if you do not comply with my wishes."

"Well, then, I guess we're both shit out of luck," Patrick shrugged, his chestnut eyes blazing. A pale orderly stood next to him, waiting for him to deposit the young woman on the gurney, but the doctor wasn't quite done.

"I've got seventeen other patients right now with pressing mental concerns, most of them in worse condition than your friend. But guess what? I can't do a goddamn thing for any one of them because the virus that was dumped into this town's water supply by your men is unlike anything else we've ever seen, and there isn't any antidote."

"Then make one!" Alcazar exploded, slamming his fist against his palm. "I'll pay you-"

"That's not going to work this time," Patrick responded smoothly in a low, cold voice reserved only for the extremely brave or the extremely stupid. "All the money and all the power and all the threats in the world aren't going to change the fact that we're facing an epidemic here, and most of the people in this hospital won't make it through the next forty-eight hours."

He shifted the young woman in his arms, now staring calmly back into Alcazar's enraged obsidian eyes. "Besides, Mr. Alcazar, what good is money in a ghost town?"

Without sparing the man another glance, Patrick turned to his attending orderly and gently laid the woman down on the gurney. Together they strapped her in and made sure she was settled.

"I'm going to need some basic information," the young doctor said, not looking over his shoulder. "What's the patient's name?"

Jason saw Sonny teeter slightly when Alcazar let out a heavy sigh and obliged the doctor's question.

"Brenda Barrett."

--------------------------------------------------------------

"We're lost. Damn it, Elizabeth, we don't have the _time_ to be lost."

"We're not lost," she hissed in reply, sticking close to the brick wall as they crept through the dark alley. "Trust me – I know these docks like the back of my hand. I lived here once."

"Oh, you did not."

"Did too," the brunette frowned, miffed at not having been taken seriously. "When we were kids, Lucky and I ran away from home and lived here. No one knows this area better than I do and I'm _telling_ you, we're not lost. Just follow me."

"We need a safe place to stay," he reminded her, sullenly creeping along after the petite brunette. "Someplace that hasn't been used in quite a while, in a very low-key area, and very close by. So tell me, my little pixie, are you going to wave your magic wand and deliver?"

"I'll do you one better," Elizabeth snipped, leading him up to a beaten door hidden under a mass of graffiti. "I'll wave my magic hairpin and deliver."

Robert watched skeptically as she pulled a pin from her hair – the same one that had saved their asses in Portugal – and went to work on the lock. In a few seconds, she had it open and quietly slipped inside, waiting for him to do the same.

Neither spoke as the brunette crept toward the stairwell and tiptoed in. They ascended quickly, taking the stairs two steps at a time until she stopped on the landing and pulled the door open, leading him into a dimly lit hallway. Robert glanced around warily, uncertain as to the security the joint offered, but followed her because he had no other choice.

Elizabeth's keys jingled as she jammed them into a stubborn lock, and Robert turned to see her battling it out with a large door made of reinforced steel. But she soon had it open and they instantly darted inside. The brunette quickly flipped the first of six locks while the agent looked around, realizing that the little pad was better housing than he had hoped for.

Once Elizabeth was sure that the door would hold, she untied the small satchel that she kept at her waist and placed it on her little workbench. Robert maneuvered himself around a few easels and crept over to her window, staring out into the night sky and the ominous, troubled waters of the harbor.

She was pulling off her worn, mud-encrusted boots while the detective eased open his own satchel and pulled out a small black aerosol can. Giving it a few quick shakes, he quickly opened it and began coating her windows with a thick black substance. Once he was sure that not a crack of light would escape, he put the spray bottle away and joined her on the couch.

"You sure no one'll find us here?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "I haven't come here in weeks. Even after I left Jason, I stayed at the Brownstone because this place is so drafty at night. I've actually been thinking about getting rid of it for about a month now, so no one will expect us to be here. And about half of the rooms in this building aren't able to be rented out, so there aren't that many other tenants."

"Charming," he murmured, pulling a few small devices out of his satchel and searching out an electrical outlet with his flashlight. She waited as he connected the devices with adapters and plugged the whole gadget into the socket, then the young woman reached over and switched on the lamp. "Do we have any food in the joint?"

"I've got non-perishables and a Bunsen burner," she replied, gesturing to the closet where she kept her blankets and painting supplies. "I'll fix us something while you contact Shylock and Thucydides."

"Bless your soul, doll," Robert murmured in reply, already pressing the tiny keys on his gadget with a three-inch metal pointer. "Can you do me one more and get me a glass of water?"

She nodded, already heading toward her cupboard to pull out a styrofoam cup. The faucet sputtered before obliging her with a steady stream and Elizabeth frowned at the water as she filled the glass and headed back toward Robert.

He smirked when he saw her holding it with thinly disguised skepticism. "What's the matter?"

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose and shook her head, her ponytail swaying animatedly. "I just…I couldn't drink this, Robbie, knowing what's in it."

The detective shrugged and took the glass from her, downing it in three breaths. "Well, doll, this is the way I think of it. We were both already infected with the virus the minute we dove into the harbor, and the whole town is tainted. The human body can't last very long without water, so I'll take what I can get until we beat this."

The brunette wrinkled her nose again and headed off to find some food for them both. A few minutes later, she emerged from her closet with a few cans and headed over to her workbench to hook up her Bunsen burner.

Robert would periodically relay bits of information he received from his colleagues as she heated up the chili and ripped open a few spare packets of hot sauce to season it more to her liking. At this point, they were doing quite well. During their brief period of hiding out in Europe, they had come to know a good deal about Helena's virus. After all, it was much easier for them to poke around since the Cassidine Queen already assumed that they had been eliminated.

By the time they managed to catch – or rather, steal at gunpoint – a Cessna back to the States, they had a pretty good idea of what they were up against. Helena had unleashed a virus onto Port Charles and would bide her time until her enemies were delivered to her. Alcazar had been her little puppet and he had performed admirably. They didn't have much information on Sonny and Jason, mostly because Robert's colleagues hadn't deemed them very important, but they knew that they were at least alive for the time being.

The same could not be said much longer for the citizens of Port Charles. The entire town was infected and the people were dropping like flies and wouldn't make it to the end of the week unless they found the antidote. The reports had been very clear: there was an antidote. Helena had it in her possession, and they knew exactly where. The only problem now was getting there and finding it.

There were so many people who needed them to succeed one more time: there was no way for them to give up now, especially after their daring escape from the hotel in Portugal. They'd see this through to the end, along with the Spencers and the team of Morgan-Corinthos, or they'd die trying.

The World Security Bureau had already sent its operatives to infiltrate the town at the risk of getting infected and from what they knew from Robert's colleagues on the ground, no one had much time left. Edward Quartermaine was knocking on death's door. His daughter, Tracy, and his grandsons AJ and Dillon would soon follow. The Commissioner's family was also in dire straits, as was Elizabeth's own grandmother.

And that was what kept her going along with the pure adrenaline racing through her system. All she had to do was help Robert get the antidote into the right hands – to get it to Audrey, to Edward, to Georgie, to little Michael. Luke would handle Helena; Sonny and Jason would handle Alcazar, she was sure of it. This, however, was their job.

"We'll be getting the signal shortly, I dare say," Robert mumbled, turning away from his interceptor to gratefully accept a bowl of steaming chili. His serious topaz eyes lifted to meet the grim sapphire ones of the petite brunette as she sat cross-legged at his side, his loyal disciple. "A few hours, if all goes well. Then we'll know it's safe and we'll head out to meet with an old colleague of mine who's also on this. If that goes well, doll, we're home free. It's up to Luke and your boys then."

"And what about the WSB medical team?" she asked instantly, thinking about the elusive antidote that they'd have to replicate as fast as possible. "Are they set?"

"They're setting up in the next town, right across the harbor, that way," he answered, pointing in the vague direction. "We'll be set, doll. Just eat and try to get some rest, all right? We're no good to anyone, starving and half-asleep."

She nodded, swallowing hard to force the food down. Weeks on the run, keeping irregular hours, the constant pressure and fear, and the scarcity of food in general had weakened her appetite drastically. Her entire body was off-center and she didn't know how she'd ever recover. But she kept pushing herself, knowing that this was the most crucial point in their journey. 

Elizabeth sighed to herself, not realizing that Robert's watchful eyes were on her. Being back in Port Charles was a disillusioning experience. After the instability and the fear that plagued their days in Europe, she was looking forward to returning home. She hadn't, however, realized that the city would seem as if it were under martial law. It was a veritable ghost town, dead and silent. It had been jarring for her, and she didn't even want to let herself think of all the people who were suffering while she sat on the floor in her studio eating hot chili.

"You're thinking about Morgan, aren't you?"

She blinked away tears at the sound of his sympathetic voice, shaking her head with a rueful smile. "Trying not to, thanks."

Robert tucked her hair behind her ear affectionately, then dropped his hand to her knee to give it a reassuring squeeze. "It's all right, you know. You can think about him if you like – I'm not mad."

His affected magnanimity made her laugh, and the detective's eyes crinkled as she wiped away her tears. "Gee, thanks, Robbie."

"My good deed of the day, doll," he answered with a wink, heartily cramming another heaping spoonful of chili into his mouth. 

Elizabeth shook her head and concentrated on her food, pushing the same three beans around and around her bowl in an attempt to look like she was at least actively doing something with her food. 

"Elizabeth."

She looked up abruptly only to find that his knowing silver-blue eyes were still trained on her. "Yes, Robbie?"

"He's going to be fine. He's as strong as an ox, that boy is."

The brunette blushed, embarrassed at being so transparent, but nodded anyway. "I know."

"But you're still worried."

"Well…_yeah_."

Robert chuckled noiselessly to himself, using the plastic spoon to clean up the contents of his bowl. He brandished the last spoonful, his eyes looking directly into hers. "Then think of it this way. It's just like me and Anna."

A slow, enlightened but strained grin spread across her face, and Elizabeth didn't quite know what to say.

"You said on the plane, doll," he continued, talking around the last mouthful, "that you and Morgan used to have an illicit partnership back in the day. He helped you, you helped him. Anna and I had a partnership, too, you know. We trusted each other not only to do our jobs, but to stay safe."

"…So you're saying that I need to trust him to do his job so I can do mine, because sitting around and worrying about him isn't going to do anything."

"All I'm saying is that the best way to help everyone out is to stay as cool as you possibly can," Robert informed her. "No one's asking you to be a robot, Elizabeth. You don't have to stop worrying about those that you care about – that's hardly fair to ask of you. But stay focused as best you can, because that's the only way to win this battle."


	38. 38

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 38**

"I'm worried about my daughter," Bobbie Spencer admitted quietly, sneaking a sidelong glance at her ex-husband as the two of them worked side by side at the nurse's station. "And her children."

Noah heaved a heavy sigh, straightening a thick stack of reports against the countertop. "_I'm_ worried about your brother."

"That, too," she murmured as he picked up another file and began to thumb quickly through it. "Things are getting dangerous."

He nodded briskly, unsure of how to comfort her. "Luke's a smart man. He'll stay hidden."

That earned him a short laugh. "Oh, Noah, you don't know my brother."

The doctor quirked a brow at her, smirking. "No? Seems pretty common sense to me – if you're wanted, lay low."

"Common sense – that's where you've lost us Spencers," she smiled confidingly. "Luke's never been one to sit out _anything_ that concerned his family. He's not going to stay hidden for long. And that's what worries me."

"Still, he's smart," Noah insisted, watching as his own son took a minute out of his harried and frantic schedule to exchange innuendo with a pretty brunette nurse as he took a few charts from her. "Most of the people I've talked to have a lot of faith in him."

"You don't know this town, either, then," came the cynical reply. "Those same people will be the first to turn on him and try to serve him up to Helena with an apple in his mouth."

"Appetizing."

She shook her head, propping her chin up in her hands. "It just feels like…like we're not doing enough. Luke's life is in direct danger, Sonny and Jason are trying to oust Alcazar – but you didn't hear that from me, even though it's pretty obvious – and we're just going through the motions at the hospital."

"I'd hardly call this going through the motions."

"What _would_ you call it?"

"Busting our asses to find an antidote."

She smiled at his good intentions and pure heart, but the Spencer in her was also bringing out her cynicism. "Oh, there is no antidote for us to find – except the one that Helena Cassidine is probably holding in her hand right now."

Noah blinked at her, laying his papers down flat for a brief moment. "…Do you really believe that?"

Bobbie nodded sadly. "She doesn't care one bit for the people of this town. All she wants is Luke – and maybe Lucky, if she's feeling greedy, although that's a stretch because she's already taken him once and she doesn't repeat her tricks. It doesn't matter how many people have to die until then – until she gets what she wants. This is how she works."

"Then we'll just have to work harder," he replied stubbornly, sounding every bit like the optimistic, idealistic young doctor she knew before he left town. His dark brown eyes were still trained on hers as Noah accepted yet another folder of charts from an orderly. "Let's see…"

"Whose are those?" Bobbie asked, peering over his shoulder as he tried to hide the results. "Oh…"

The tall doctor sighed heavily, knowing that she had already seen the latest on her daughter and grandson. Left with no other alternative, he wordlessly slid the charts across the counter to her.

"Michael," she murmured, her eyes hungrily moving over the page. "Oh…oh, his seizures are five hours apart – and look at all the medication he's on."

Noah watched her emerald eyes fill with tears and hesitantly placed a hand on her shoulder as she read on. "He's not experiencing even brief moments of lucidity anymore," Bobbie choked out. "If he's not unconscious, he's delirious."

She quickly pushed the page away, unable to read anymore, but unfortunately for her the next chart was Carly's.

"Your daughter's doing well," Noah encouraged, trying to be supportive. "Much better than we expected."

"But she's so weak," Bobbie sighed, pursing her lips together in an attempt to keep her tears in check. "And the baby…oh, Noah, I'm so afraid for the baby. Carly can't lose another child – she just can't!"

Not knowing what to do, Noah Drake did the first thing that finally sprang to mind. Reaching out, he wrapped his arms around his ex-wife and pulled her close, letting her bury her face in his chest as Bobbie Spencer finally gave in to a moment of weakness.

His hand moved slowly up and down her back as Noah gazed grimly down the hallway that led to her daughter and son's room. "It will be all right, Bobbie," he murmured. "You said it yourself – we're all working together to beat this. We've got Luke, those shifty mobsters, and an excellent staff of doctors, nurses and orderlies at this hospital. We're not going to let this take us down."

She nodded against him, trying to pull herself together. She'd been doing so well for so long, too; she had been professional and upbeat and invincible as she strode the halls, tending to her patients. But it had caught up to her at the worst possible moment, and it was almost too much.

Still, Bobbie nodded and discreetly wiped her tears away as she pulled back and offered Noah a small smile.

"You're right," she got out in a low, husky voice. "You're right, Noah. We're all in this together. And if we go down…well, at least we know that we did what we could."

"That's not going to happen," he answered quickly, insistently. "Damn it, Barbara, I did not come back to this town to watch a virus annihilate the population. We're going to fight this and we're going to win. As long as Luke Spencer's on our side-"

"Luke Spencer," came a derisive snort from behind, and Noah turned to see a stout red-haired man glaring at him. "We're in this mess because of him – because of him and Helena Cassidine's blood feud. My little Susie is fighting for her life because of them two!"

"Yeah," a dark haired man in a wrinkled suit agreed vehemently. "Why can't they kill each other and leave the rest of us alone? We didn't do anything to deserve this!"

"You know what the problem is?" Bobbie frowned when a tall blonde woman with a large nose and beady brown eyes stood up to address the simmering crowd. "It's our fault-"

"Boo!" the gathering crowd jeered.

"-It's our fault because we let Luke Spencer get away with everything he does," she continued, her eyes flashing as Noah and Bobbie stood by. "He's always endangering his life and all of ours with his stunts, but does anyone ever say anything? No! He's given a free pass to do whatever he wants – and put all of us in danger!"

"All Helena wants is Luke Spencer," the first man agreed. "If she gets him, then she doesn't need my Susie anymore. I say we turn that son of a bitch in!"

"Turn in Luke Spencer!" another older man agreed. "What has that rat bastard ever done for us?"

Noah glanced worriedly in Bobbie's direction. He knew his ex-wife well enough to know that in about three seconds, she'd explode and hand the entire mob their bottoms on a platter for even thinking to sacrifice her brother when he was the only one that stood a chance at saving them. And sure enough, the redhead opened her mouth to give the increasingly large crowd a piece of her mind when she was interrupted by a surprising passerby.

"Luke Spencer saved all of you from Helena several times in the past!"

The crowd, which now included Sonny and Jason who lingered toward the back, turned in surprise to see Tracy Quartermaine standing next to a glowering Alan. The doctor was dressed in scrubs with his stethoscope around his neck and his sister sported her typical designer pantsuit outfit, but both wore the look of defensive righteousness quite well.

"Your memories must have been the first thing to go with the onslaught of this bug," Tracy growled, her hazy eyes flashing as she surveyed the group who didn't even have the decency to look ashamed. "He's stood up against her time and time again. What about when she tried to freeze the world? And don't you remember what happened a few years ago?"

"Lady, you weren't even here-"

"No, but I was," Alan interrupted indignantly as Noah and Bobbie exchanged glances. "And I remember the havoc that Helena Cassidine tried to wreak on this town."

"She only wanted to get the Spencers, even back then!" cried the man with the red hair and the ill daughter. "I remember it because-"

"I doubt anyone remembers better than myself," came a strained, low voice from down the hall. Bobbie turned to see her other ex-husband standing on the opposite side of the nurse's station, and Tony's blue eyes met hers briefly before turning back to the crowd.

"Helena was after the Spencers, it's true," he acknowledged, refusing to let the crowd's hostility rein him in. "She wanted Lucky to kill his father, but that was secondary to her main goal. She wanted her son, Stavros, resurrected – and that was where I came in."

Noah remained close to Bobbie's side as she discreetly wiped her eyes, remembering the havoc that the Cassidine Queen had wreaked upon her own family.

"I was taken hostage and delivered to the basement in General Hospital," Tony continued, slowly and deliberately easing closer. Still, the crowd didn't budge. "There, I worked diligently night and day to revive a man that had been cryogenically frozen for the past twenty years, not knowing if I was doing it right, but knowing that I had to do it regardless. And why? Because my own son's life hung in the balance – just like it does now."

"Tony succeeded, as I'm sure most of you remember," Alan picked up, sparing his friend and colleague from retelling one of the most horrific moments of his life. "Stavros was alive and together, he and Helena tried to destroy the Spencers."

"If they had succeeded, what makes you think that any of you would be alive and well today?" Tracy sneered, unable to help herself. "Helena doesn't care about any one of you – and she's certainly not above killing you and your little Susie if it suits her purposes. Luke Spencer might be a shrewd, calculating, degenerate rat bastard, but like it or not, he's this town's last chance when it comes to taking down Helena Cassidine."

"Some good Spencer's doing us right now," the businessman retorted. "The entire town is infected and where is he? Probably drinking in that bar of his! If we leave right now, I'm sure we can round him up before he has any idea-"

"I don't think that's going to work," came a smooth, calm voice from the back. Bobbie frowned, her eyes coming to rest on Sonny Corinthos who stood casually next to a stoic Jason with his hands in the pockets of his wrinkled dress pants.

The crowd was confused momentarily before a young woman finally voiced their question to the intimidating mob boss. "Why not?"

"Because from what I've been hearing, Luke's long gone," Sonny replied, scratching the back of his head as Jason looked discreetly in his father's direction. Alan's lips twitched and he nodded, understanding what the two men were doing.

"Luke's gone?" Bobbie asked aloud, playing along. "Sonny, that can't be right. He wouldn't leave us!"

"I'm sorry, Bobbie, but that's what we've been hearing."

"Think about it," Jason finally spoke up when the crowd began to get restless. At the sound of his grim, tight voice most of the vigilantes nearby grew quiet. "Why would Luke stay in town when he knew that it would only be a matter of time before the people tried to turn him in to die? His best option was to run."

The more vocal men looked at each other, perplexed. They knew from Jason Morgan's reputation that the man never lied, and that was why his input was especially disconcerting. They failed to realize, however, that the enforcer had phrased the statement as a supposition and speculation, not cold and hard fact.

"Well, that's it," Tracy finally spoke up, throwing her hands weakly in the air as she turned on her heel to return to her son's room. "We're all sunk."

"Did Luke really go?" Tony heard a young woman in the crowd ask. "But – But, he wouldn't do that to this town! He knows that he's our last prayer and that we'd stand by him."

Sonny rubbed the corners of his mouth with his index and thumb, hiding a smirk at the crowd's capriciousness. "That's Luke Spencer – a snake in the grass. He doesn't have any loyalties to anybody."

Bobbie sneaked a glance at Noah, her emerald eyes glittering when he smirked confidingly back. With their hopes dashed, the crowd began to disperse and return to their respective rooms – those that were lucky enough to have rooms, that is. Still, several men and a few women remained clustered together as Sonny and Jason casually made their way over to the nurse's station.

"I don't believe it," one of them snorted, lowering his voice enough that he thought Sonny couldn't hear. "That Corinthos is useless right now – his entire business was taken over by that fucker, Alcazar. Why should we believe what his reports say?"

"I still think that if we leave now we might be able to find him," the red haired man insisted. "We'll organize a task force and comb the town – Spencer won't be able to hide long."

"And we don't even need Luke right away," one woman pointed out. "If we can find his son, that'll lure him out of hiding anyway."

Sonny shook his head and turned away from the mob, knowing that they didn't stand a chance in Hell of finding Luke and Lucky. Bobbie smiled softly at him, discreetly shuffling Michael and Carly's charts in with those of the other patients. "Thank you, Sonny. Jason, you, too."

The men nodded as Tony and Alan approached. "We're all doing our best to see this through," Sonny said in a low voice, eyeing those that still milled around. "We just need a little more time-"

"Doctor Quartermaine," came a hurried voice from down the hall, and Alan turned to see a brunette nurse with a few charts in her hand jogging down toward him.

"Yes, Nurse?"

"Joyce, what is it?" Noah asked, holding out another folder of charts that he needed the young woman to take. "What have you got there?"

"These are for you, Doctor," she said, handing the chief of staff a few reports. "Also…Dr. Drake, Georgie Jones can't take the strain of the seizures anymore. We got her stabilized until the next one hits in about an hour and a half, but maybe a better option-"

"-she needs to be placed on life support," Noah finished with a heavy sigh, already ducking out of the station. "Yes, I've done this three times today already. All right, Joyce, come with me."

Bobbie sighed, blinking back tears as she watched the young nurse scurry off after Noah. "Oh, Georgie," she murmured, thinking of the agony her best friend must be going through at the moment. "She won't be the first, and she won't be the last, either."

Elizabeth was fast asleep but up like a light when Robert cautiously moved past her on his way back from the sink. She shot up to a sitting position as the detective reached for one of her rags and began to dry his hands and face.

"What happened? What is it?"

"The signal came through, doll," came the predictable answer as Robert packed his belongings back into the small black satchel and strapped it to his waist. "Time to move."

Without a word of protest or a muffled groan, the brunette rolled to her haunches and stood easily. She made quick work of folding up her bedding and tossed it behind the couch like her houseguest had done. Robert pulled on his black sweater as she washed her face and quickly dried it with a paint-spotted towel, then reached for her boots. By the time she finished lacing them up, he already had her behemoth door unlocked and the two slipped out into the hallway.

The sun was setting as they pushed out into the dark alley, and Robert grabbed Elizabeth's hand and ran toward the last disappearing rays. The cure for the deadly scourge that crippled Port Charles lay to their west, in a large sprawling Gothic mansion crouching far away off the coast, in the harbor.

-------------------------------------------------------------

The jig was up: Lila had been found out.

Alan and Monica had not been pleased to learn that the Quartermaine matriarch had been desperately hiding her grave illness for the past few days and had another bed delivered to Edward's room immediately. It was an awkward ordeal since a gurney or a cot now took up almost every spare inch of the hospital as patients came in by the truckload, coughing and wheezing and convulsing.

But the old woman had refused their efforts. She wouldn't take the extra bed and instead had it sent back out for one of the many other patients now lying on the floor on sleeping bags. Lila maintained that she wouldn't move from her chair nor her husband's bedside, and no amount of pleading or cajoling on Alan and Monica's parts could force her to reconsider. Tracy, now so flushed and dehydrated that she couldn't even get up from her bed next to Dillon's, had the right idea when she told her brother that their mother's job now was to keep their father alive, and that in turn would keep her alive.

So Alan and Monica had no choice but to leave the old woman there, sitting with Edward's listless hand clasped between her own. And that was where Jason found her several hours later during one of his many trips to check up on her.

Lila actually noticed him and looked up when he entered the room, and the enforcer hesitantly crept to her side and crouched by her feet. "Jason, darling," she sighed, using her free hand to caress his cheek in a loving gesture that he'd never outgrow. "You're looking well. I'm glad."

He nodded, her palm still on his cheek. The virus was getting to him, naturally, but he was still in the early phases. Alan said that he had his exercise habits, diet, and genetics to thank for that. Still, he could feel his fever beginning to rise as he spent his days prowling the hospital corridors but never leaving Michael and Carly too far behind.

"How are you, Grandmother?"

"As well as can be expected," came the soft reply as the old woman turned to her husband once more. "What of Carly? And my great-grandson? How are they?"

"Carly's awake, but she can't get out of bed," he answered quietly. "And Michael…Michael's not doing too well."

Her eyes, bright from the fever, were clouded and troubled. "I'm afraid no one's doing too well, my dear. I…I've never seen anything like this in my life."

"I don't know if Alan told you this," Jason started, suddenly unsure of himself. "But…the virus that infected the town was dumped into the water supply."

"That explains how it affected so many people, and so quickly," she murmured in reply.

"It was Helena Cassidine's work. She did it so that the town would turn Luke Spencer in."

"Helena," Lila sighed, remembering the other matriarch's antics well. "Well, dear, I do say that if she thinks that it shall be that easy, she has another thing coming."

He was expecting an outburst – anger, grief, anything – and her reply surprised him. "What do you mean, Grandmother?"

"I am fortunate enough to know our friend Luke quite well," Lila replied, gazing at her husband's face as if she wanted him to suddenly jump up and start railing against his long-time foe. Jason listened quietly, already knowing that this would become the All-Hail-The-Mighty-Luke-Spencer speech that so many others had been clinging to.

"And I know that Luke Spencer would sell the whole lot of us down the river before we even knew it."

Jason blinked, his eyes darting up to meet his grandmother's suddenly twinkling ones. "What?"

Lila laughed to herself, threading her fingers gently through his thick, wheat-colored hair. "Oh, I'm afraid you weren't expecting that, were you, darling?" She chuckled again, shaking her head. "Even if the entire town had gone out with pitchforks the moment that horrid woman appeared on television to announce her intentions, they never would have come close to catching Luke."

Jason smirked at her, enjoying her insight. "Because he's too fast for them?"

"Because he's quite ruthless, darling," came the answer. Again, it wasn't what he had expected, especially from his sweet, warm grandmother who always got along so well with all the misfits that Port Charles had to offer. "His freedom and his family are two things that Luke fights tooth and nail for. It won't be easy to deliver him to Helena."

"So he'll stay safe?" He was leading her on, but Lila didn't mind playing along.

"No," she answered firmly. "Luke's never done a good job at staying safe, I dare say. To my way of thinking, I don't think the man enjoys it at all. He _will_ meet up with Helena during this whole frightful business, darling – but it shall be on his own terms. The mob gathering outside, no doubt, to turn him in won't accomplish much, but I do believe that at some point we will see Luke walk willingly onto Helena's yacht of his own accord."

He nodded to himself, shifting his weight when his ankles began to hurt. Thinking better of it, Jason braced his hands on the floor and sat down cross-legged next to her wheelchair. "We've been trying to spread a rumor that he's left town for good. Most people believe it."

"Most people aren't very bright, then," Lila replied, squeezing Edward's hand. "Luke Spencer would never abandon Port Charles, Jason – never."

The enforcer's brows furrowed at the declaration. "Why not? He doesn't like this town or anyone in it."

"Well, that's the truth," she agreed readily enough, still watching Edward for any signs of movement. "But he loves this town for what he found here…and for what his son found here."

Again, Jason had no idea what she was talking about. "What did they find?"

"Love," came the simple answer. "Happiness. Port Charles will always be the place where Luke met Laura, and the place where his son met Elizabeth. And for that, Luke will always be grateful. Those two women changed those two vagabonds forever, and don't you think for a minute that Luke isn't grateful. He has history with so many people here, Jason, including you and Sonny, of course. And even if he doesn't like any of those people anymore, that doesn't mean that he's ready to abandon them when it suits his purposes. Luke's not going to let Helena destroy the only place in the world where he allowed himself to set up roots."

Jason bowed his head, considering what his grandmother had just said. He had known Luke for many years; he had been very good friends with the two Spencer men for many years. And though he knew that they could be shifty at times, he had seen their best side as well. He was too young to say this for Luke, but he had seen the changes in Lucky with his own eyes.

He had gone from a scrappy teenage boy bent on proving himself to anyone and everyone at a moment's notice to an independent, self-sufficient young man that remained focused on his goals despite the obstacles thrown his way. Back in the day, he had marveled at Lucky's pride and resilience; even when the circumstances weren't in his favor, the kid always did his best to make it through. And he knew deep down inside that Elizabeth had been responsible for at least part of that change in him. What his grandmother had said just now made a lot of sense, but he had never once thought about it in that way before.

"I don't know if Luke will be able to see us through this or not," she continued softly. "But I know that I will not blame him if he cannot. It's a lot to ask of one man, especially at a time when we shouldn't be asking anything of anyone but instead thinking of all that we were lucky enough to have."

He didn't like the direction this conversation was taking. "Grandmother-"

"No, darling, just listen to me for a moment," Lila directed gently. "At a time when so many are so afraid…I can't help but feel remarkably calm. I realize it doesn't make much sense, dear, just the rambling thoughts of an old woman. But I'm not afraid to die, Jason."

He _really_ didn't like direction this conversation had taken. "Grandmother-"

"I've spent days wondering why that is," she added in a voice so soft he had to strain to hear her. "And I've come to the conclusion that I feel no fear because I've lived such a full life. I have roots in this town, Jason, just like our friend Luke does. I have a family, however dysfunctional they might be, but they're mine and I do love them so. I have a life that I've lived to the fullest, and very few regrets. I'm not afraid, darling."

He swallowed past a lump in his throat, not wanting to give in to the soothing effect of her calm words but unable to form a word himself.

"I pray that those who have so much to keep living for find deliverance from this illness," Lila sighed, her thin voice cracking slightly. "And I thank the good Lord that your Elizabeth isn't present for this horrible ordeal. Perhaps it was for the best, dear, that she left. I do hope, for your sake, that you are able to see her again one day. But until then, darling, I have only one thing to ask you."

Jason swallowed hard, choking slightly on his own words. "Anything, Grandmother."

She turned to him directly then, gazing deeply into the crystal blue eyes that he had inherited from her. "Until then, darling, don't be afraid. Please don't be afraid for me."

He looked up at her helplessly, not sure he knew what she was asking. "I-"

"You fear for yourself," she whispered back, gently running a hand over his head before grasping his chin gently. "You fear for your friends, for that darling little boy…for me. I must ask you, Jason, not to be afraid for me. It's the last thing I would ever want."

He shook his head forcefully, not knowing what he was disagreeing with so vehemently. "I-I can't-"

"I can't stay with you forever, darling," she replied, forcing him to meet her placid gaze. The fever had flushed her cheeks a deep rosy color, and her normally sharp eyes were soft and liquid as she looked directly into him. "And I need for you not to be afraid for me. You are needed elsewhere, darling – there is so much left for you to do. So fight this, Jason. Fight this with everything you are, my dear boy. And always remember that your grandmother loved you. There is no need to be afraid anymore."

It was the one thing he had been trying so hard not to think about, not to talk about, not to confront. And that was why it was so hard to hear it coming straight from her. It was a cruel twist: his grandmother, feverish and dehydrated and weaker than he'd ever seen her, telling him not to be afraid.

Her palm rested at his jaw and Jason pressed his cheek into it, not bothering to brush away the few glassy tears that slipped past his lashes and shattered against his rough cheek. But Lila felt them and wiped them away herself, murmuring the same soft, nonsensical words she had used on him when he was a little boy. And even though Jason didn't quite remember, he knew.

Unable to take it anymore, he jerked away from her touch and stood abruptly, studiously avoiding her gaze. His grandmother understood and, generous soul that she was, chose not to make it any more difficult to him. Instead, she brought her free hand back to rest in her lap and turned back to her husband who lay strapped to the respirator in the hospital bed.

Jason stumbled slightly as he made his way to the door, then gulped in a breath of fresh air once he stepped into the bright hallway. The harsh lighting made him wince and he lowered his gaze, heading directly toward the hub of the hospital.

Patrick was discussing the latest on Brenda's condition with Alan and Ned as he walked by, and Jason didn't stop even though his father called out to him. He didn't bother waiting for the elevator, either, and simply kicked open the door to the stairwell. The four-story descent was a workout in his feverish condition, but Jason pushed himself and hit the lobby panting hard.

The cool November night air met him instantly as he pushed through the revolving doors and stepped out onto the unwelcoming concrete. The inky night sky stretched out before him, tinged with the last magenta rays of a weak sun that knew it had lost the battle with the moon. Jason breathed in deeply, feeling the cold air race through his heated body.

The town lay deathly still around him and for once he was in solitude. In the hospital, there were always people within a two-foot radius, especially since Alan had run out of free rooms. At the penthouse, the four walls were entirely oppressive, especially with the four enemy guards lurking just outside.

Now, as he stood under the clear night sky, he was alone. For once, he wasn't flanked by Alcazar's men; they had their own problems to see to since their boss had gone missing. Heaving a heavy sigh, Jason took off down the sidewalk. He didn't want to call a car, and he didn't want to talk to anyone right now. This was good; this was what he needed.

The passing scenery was a blur as the enforcer kept walking, not entirely sure where he was going. But as he passed the courthouse and then Eli's, he knew. Kelly's stood down the corner as he turned a sharp right and kept on walking through a dark alley that he'd strode through on many occasions before.

No matter what was going on in his life, he always managed to end up on the docks. There was something about the water lapping against the old planks that soothed him no matter what, and he had so many pleasant and unpleasant memories alike built on the docks that they all blended together in a vague tapestry that had gradually come to represent part of his identity. No matter what, he always found his answers on the docks.

Only this time, he knew that there wouldn't be anything waiting for him there, or anywhere else.


	39. 39

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 39**

He had tried to run away from his grandmother's words, but as always, her soft, humble wisdom followed him regardless.

Jason shook his head, trying to concentrate on the sound of the water hitting the planks. The wooden stairs creaked under his weight as he stepped heavily onto the docks, not knowing where else to go but knowing that he wasn't ready to say goodbye yet.

His grandmother had supported him throughout his life, whenever he needed her. In fact, she usually seemed to know when he needed her most before he even did. She never pushed, she never meddled, but she reached out to him in a way he knew his parents would never be able to.

She had helped him after he moved out of the Quartermaine mansion; she had listened to him when the mess with Carly and Michael blew up in his face. She had even happened to be there for him after Elizabeth had left him, and in the past few days at the hospital when he had been driving himself to the brink with worry and anxiety.

She had known whom he was thinking about when he came into her room after checking briefly on Audrey Hardy. Even though he hadn't said a word about it, she knew that he was worried about Elizabeth. No one knew that they were back together, or that she was assumed dead at this point. The gossip mill in Port Charles had been busy churning out rumors, but the prevailing one was that Elizabeth woke up and realized he was no good, then skipped off to England to reunite with her family, despite the fact that the Webbers were spread out all over the world. Common sense rarely flourished in Port Charles – finally, one could say with an admirable degree of certainty that it really was something in the water.

But despite all that she didn't know, Lila had offered him what she could. She knew he was lonely, and the only thing she said on the subject was that he hoped his loneliness would spur him to find something great worth living for, and something great worth dying for.

And sure enough, he had found it.

Jason sighed heavily and kicked a pebble off the planks, listening as it splashed into the inky black waters of the harbor. The launch was coming in from Wyndemere, where Nikolas was holed up like a common prisoner. The prince was the one citizen of Port Charles that wasn't affected by the scourge, and Jason knew that the townsfolk hated the young man for that. A few dock workers were talking somewhere in the distance, no doubt preparing to load fresh water and supplies onto the boat for Helena's grandson.

The enforcer closed his eyes and turned his face up to the charcoal skies. A few cool tears escaped from underneath his lashes, coursing slick paths over his cheeks and the stubble that had gathered there. But Jason remained standing, bathed in the light of the moon.

Lila had told him to fight, but he didn't see how that was possible anymore. He and Sonny already had plans to oust Alcazar, but that would be nothing if there was no antidote to enable them to live long enough to savor the victory. And even though Luke and Lucky had miraculously succeeded in bugging the yacht, it was anybody's guess if they'd be able to beat the race against time to secure the elusive antidote.

The only thing he had left to fight for anymore was Elizabeth, and she wasn't even here.

He cracked one eye open, his gaze instantly connecting with the moon as it hung low over the black waters of the harbor. Slowly, he opened both eyes and stared back, feeling more alone than he ever had since he and Elizabeth had been forced to separate.

The waves hit the wood, a dull smacking sound that was magnified by the stillness of the night, and the moon cast its pristine glow onto the troubled waters. All was still and beautiful, ideal – ideal and deadly.

He heaved a heavy sigh, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket that hung over his shoulders now, weighing him down. In all of his years in the business, he had only exacted a quick and painless death two times. The first had been on a colleague, a young bodyguard who was in excruciating pain and wouldn't have lasted until medical assistance came anyway. The second was a security guard for a rival who had offered up everything he knew about their enemy and then begged to be shot in fear of his boss.

Every other time, the death that was exacted at his hands was slow, painful, debilitating, agonizing. Pain – that was the secret. It was his job as an enforcer to put his victim through as much pain as possible while extracting all valuable information. Pain was the greatest incentive known to man, and he knew how to harness its crippling power. Sometimes, death was too easy. Death was too merciful. True success in his profession came when the victim _begged_ to let go of life.

Helena Cassidine knew the secret well. Death was too good for the Spencers – it always had been. And it was too good for the town that had once rallied together to keep the family safe. The best way to assert her power and proclaim her dominance was to slowly pry everything that her victims held dear from their hands. In the end, she hadn't even left them with hope. The woman was a master: after all, a loss of life was infinitely better than the loss of hope.

His throat burned from the fever, and it hurt to swallow. His body was beginning to ache since his last painkiller had been more than twelve hours ago. He didn't like to take the stuff, but there had been no other choice – not if he wanted to keep working to save this town and his family. Not if he wanted to make Port Charles safe again for Elizabeth to come home to. 

Jason rubbed the back of his neck, vainly trying to ease the tension there, and his gaze swung down to the inky black waves of the harbor as they glistened under the moonlight. Then, something shining on the wooden dock post caught his eye – something entirely unexpected that he thought he had imagined until he drew closer.

The shimmer didn't die as he approached; instead, the object glittered noticeably and that was when Jason saw it. Something had been tucked safely into the little knothole atop the dock – something small and hard that caught the light just right…

He slipped it out and held it flat on his palm, gazing down at it in awe. It had been more than a year since he had seen it last, and he had lost hope of seeing it again after learning of its tragic fate.

The broken shard of red glass winked up at him, basking in the full glow of the moon as it bathed his palm. Jason let out a huff of air and smirked to himself, tossing it up in the air and catching it on his palm once more.

The red glass.

His fingers closed over the shard just in time, trapping it against his palm when he heard the approaching footsteps – at least three. Sure enough, a triumvirate of Alcazar's guards materialized from a dark alley that led to the docks and eyed him suspiciously before sidling closer.

"Jason Morgan," one of them sneered, his accent thick and heavy in the cool night air. "Enjoying some fresh air, are we?"

His jaw tightened as Jason discreetly slipped the broken piece of glass into his pocket while wondering why he was going to such great lengths to conceal it. It was a remaining shard from a broken object – the probability of it being a sign was astronomical, and he had never been a man to believe in such odds. Still, a faint glimmer of hope began to glow and grow inside of him as he faced the three men.

They weren't surprised when he said nothing.

"You're out rather late," one of them mused in a blatantly patronizing tone, smirking condescendingly at the enforcer. "Shouldn't you be at the hospital watching your loved ones die?"

Jason's eyes turned to steel but he remained silent. Clearly, these three guards were simply lowly peons who continued to delude themselves into thinking that Alcazar's partnership with Helena secured their safety. Obviously, they had yet to hear that Alcazar's girlfriend hadn't even been that lucky; Brenda was currently unconscious in a hospital room between Edward's and Tracy's and being tended to by the mildly obnoxious but stand-up Patrick Drake.

"Such a terrible thing, really," the other continued, looking up contemplatively at the moon. "So many innocent people…but how innocent are they, really, to offer asylum to hoodlums and incompetent Mafioso?"

A muscle in Jason's jaw ticked but he nevertheless remained silent. It wouldn't do any good to engage in a battle of wits with these three bumbling guards; at any rate, he never entered into battle with the unarmed, anyway. It would be simplest to just walk away and leave them to their mindless taunts. 

And the enforcer was just about to do that when a flash of movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Discreetly, he remained focused on the area, as the three bodyguards continued to tease him about his afflicted loved ones.

A few seconds later, he saw it again: a flash of black in the dusty alley, a streak of silver-blonde and there he was. Jason's eyes widened when he met the pale topaz ones of Robert Scorpio, but a quick glare from the detective had him quickly masking his surprise.

He watched as Robert glanced around the corner where the launch was set to dock, then turned back to him with a knowing look. Jason nodded, knowing he had to stall the guards just long enough for the agent to make his move.

"So what do you say, Morgan?" one guard asked with affected kindness. "Shall we escort you back to the hospital so that you can watch those close to you die?"

"Fine," he answered quietly, his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his jacket. "That way, you can watch those close to your boss die, too."

Robert crept out onto the landing as the three guards exchanged curious glances. Jason watched silently as the detective braced his hands on the posts atop the three-step stairs and gracefully swung himself down onto the planks without making a single sound. The enforcer licked his lips as the guards once again focused on him.

"What are you talking about, Morgan?" the taller one spat. "Is that supposed to be a threat?"

"Yes," he answered honestly as Robert turned and raised his hand, flicking the wrist in a silent signal. "But not from me."

"From who? Corinthos?"

"Sonny wouldn't waste the time."

"From who, then?" one of the men growled, quickly losing patience with the stoic enforcer's impertinence.

"Helena Cassidine."

The men let out a bark of laughter as Robert crept into the bushes, still looking up expectantly at the darkened stairs. "Mr. Alcazar and Ms. Cassidine are partners – she wouldn't threaten him."

"Helena Cassidine doesn't _have_ any partner," Jason informed them blandly. "There's nothing stopping her from killing your boss – or his girlfriend."

The men scowled at that. "What do you know about Ms. Barrett?"

"I know that she was just brought into General Hospital not too long ago with the same symptoms as the rest of this town," he replied, noticing more movement at the top of the staircase.

"That's not possible."

"The virus was dumped into the town's water supply by Helena," he continued, realizing that Robert was waiting for his accomplice and needed a few more seconds of stall time. "Everyone who's even washed their hands here is infected and will die unless the antidote is found – everyone, including Alcazar and Brenda."

The bodyguards erupted at the information, denying the charges he brought but Jason remained silent, still waiting for Robert's companion. Another person dressed all in black appeared at the top of the staircase and swung to the bottom just as the agent had, with all the grace of a dancer. 

"That's it, Morgan, we're taking you back to the hospital," the tallest guard scowled as Robert beckoned his partner back. "Let's go."

Jason moved back a step, watching the figure over the shortest guard's shoulder with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. And when the person turned, his fears were realized when he found himself staring directly back into her pristine sapphire eyes.

Elizabeth's lips parted in a silent gasp as her gaze connected with Jason's as the guards pushed him backward. But then Robert reached out and grabbed her hand, snapping her out of her silent reverie as the enforcer strained to keep sight of her.

Gulping, she glanced back at Robert who was now motioning toward the launch and then back at her lover. Pursing her lips together, she nodded once and then turned on her heel and ran noiselessly down the length of the docks, disappearing with Robert into the darkness.


	40. 40

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 40**

"Your cousin was put on a respirator about half an hour ago."

Sonny's quiet, strained voice found him the moment that Jason stepped into Carly and Michael's hospital room. The mob boss was warm and flushed but that wasn't the reason for his apparent weakness and fatigue. Sitting on what could very well be the deathbed of his wife and son was wearing him down to the point where Sonny didn't know if he'd be able to leave the room. So he remained seated on the uncomfortable plastic chair between the two beds, leaning against the flat pillow that Monica had managed to find for his comfort. 

Jason's shoulders slumped at the news. "Dillon?"

Sonny nodded. "He couldn't take it anymore. They thought they'd lost him for sure."

He heaved a heavy sigh, thinking of his termagant aunt who had stood up for all of them not too long ago with strength and determination that defied her compromised system. "And Tracy?"

"She's barely lucid. Her seizures are about four hours apart. And…Edward's not doing too well, either. But Lila's holding strong – she still won't leave him."

Jason closed his eyes and leaned back against the door, his back hitting the wood with a dull thud. "We're running out of time."

"Luke thinks he knows where the antidote is."

Sonny licked his lips when his best friend's eyes flew open and nodded at the bewildered and amazed look he received. "Yeah. He and Lucky have been sticking close to the wiretap and have been exchanging signals with the WSB. They think that Helena's hidden it at Wyndemere."

The enforcer braced his hands at the small of his aching back, still leaning against the door. "…It _would_ be the perfect spot. She's hidden the one thing that can save a dying town right within its own perimeter."

"The one untouched spot in Port Charles," Sonny agreed, tenting his fingers. "But none of us have any way to get there. The launch that comes in every night is heavily guarded, and Luke doesn't think he or Lucky can make it. The problem is that even if we get into Wyndemere – our men, I mean – we wouldn't know where to look. So we're stuck waiting on more information, but it's not looking good."

Jason remained silent as Sonny ran a hand through his unruly black curls, his solemn gaze lingering on his flushed wife. "We're right back where we were – trapped without any information."

"But you said the WSB is on it, right?"

The mob boss nodded. "Luke says that operatives are fanned out in the town and going over the shipping routes. I was offered a deal to provide a little more information about our routes on the condition that it will be sealed and not used against us at any point in the future. I accepted."

Jason nodded, knowing he would have done the same thing. "And?"

Sonny shrugged heavily. "We have more of a chance with them on it. But again, they know as much about where to look as the rest of us. The only ones that would stand a chance are Luke and Lucky, or someone that was directly involved in the Spencer-Cassidine feud. That's unfamiliar territory for us and the WSB…and no one's been able to get in touch with Robert since the disappearance…"

The corner of Jason's mouth twitched, and he slowly reached his hand into the pocket of his leather jacket as Sonny looked on curiously.

"What's that?"

The enforcer held up a small twinkling shard of red glass and quirked a brow at his best friend. "_I_ got in touch with Robert and Elizabeth."

Sonny's eyes widened and he pushed himself up onto his feet, slowly making his way toward his partner. "How? When? What happened?"

"They're back," Jason replied quietly, pocketing the glass once more. "And they're going to Wyndemere. We just have to keep up our part of the deal now, because it's going to happen soon."

---------------------------------------

"What took you so long?" Luis Alcazar demanded the moment he spotted Dr. Patrick Drake approaching the nurse's station. "Where have you been?"

"Hell," the young man muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as he came to a stop before the belligerent arms dealer. 

"Do you have news on Brenda? How is she?"

Patrick was about to reply when a tall dark-haired man came jogging up to the group and skidded to a halt, panting heavily. Ned Ashton looked back at him with wild dark eyes, ignoring the mobster altogether.

"I'm sorry," he got out, "but-but, I heard Brenda was here? Are you sure? Brenda Barrett?"

"Brenda Barrett was brought in by Mr. Luis Alcazar," the doctor replied with a nod, inwardly wondering for a moment what connection the mystery woman had with the Quartermaines _and_ an international arms dealer. "The prognosis isn't good."

"What's wrong with her?" Alcazar demanded to know.

"Her body has been greatly compromised by the virus," Patrick replied, clasping his chart with both hands in front of him. "Probably because the two of you have been floating on the harbor for so long, as you said. Every drop of water in this town is polluted, and I'm afraid she faces the same odds as the rest of the people in this hospital."

Ned gaped at him, his eyes wide and lost. "So you're saying she…"

"She was brought in very late," Patrick informed the two men quietly. "Her condition will only deteriorate, and I'm afraid she doesn't have much time left if the antidote is not found. But-"

Luis didn't wait for him to finish speaking. Instead, he spun around on his heel and barked orders to his men in Spanish, marching straight for the elevator doors down the hall. Ned watched quietly until the formidable mobster disappeared from view, then turned back to the doctor.

"Patrick, what were you going to say?"

The young man licked his lips, glancing down at his chart once more. "Never mind. It's probably not important."

---------------------------------------------------

The ride to Wyndemere was relatively uneventful, and Robert and Elizabeth were very grateful for that. It had been very difficult to get onto the launch in the first place, and neither one needed any more trouble along the way.

Elizabeth crouched behind the agent as the boat docked at the massive Gothic mansion known to all as Wyndemere Castle. Robert's breathing was slow and even and he reached behind himself to find her hand and offer it a reassuring squeeze when they heard the guards yell orders to the boatman.

The boat was docked and secured and Helena's men boarded to begin loading supplies and taking them in to the captive prince. Fortunately, Robert was no stranger to boats and had already secured them a safe hiding spot right on deck from where they could easily watch Helena's men as they carted off boxes of fresh bottled water and food.

"Ready, doll?" the agent whispered, watching as the last man grabbed his load and began to walk the plank after his friends. They had about twenty seconds before the first guard appeared from inside Wyndemere and boarded again for the second trip.

She touched his arm lightly in reply, signaling that she was, and Robert rolled smoothly to the balls of his feet and rose, gripping the railing of the boat. "Now."

Elizabeth pushed herself up from the floor at the precise moment that Robert's feet left the deck and followed the agent overboard. The waves were already lapping against the hull of the boat and so the splashes their submergence created went unnoticed as the guards returned for their second trip.

Robert took a large gulp of air and then dove under the water, swimming to the coordinates where his colleague told him there was a sizable hiding spot under the loading dock. Elizabeth followed suit, well trained at this point to observe the agent's behavior and then execute it herself.

The water was freezing and murky, no doubt contaminated as well by the invisible virus, and Elizabeth blinked furiously, trying to see her way through. The larger black satchel that she wore around her waist didn't help keeping her afloat and she struggled to keep going. Then she felt Robert grab her arm and tug her safely up to the surface.

She sucked in a deep breath of air the moment her head rose over the waves and the agent quickly snaked an arm around her waist, tugging her back and pressing a finger to his lips in an unnecessary sign to be quiet.

The guards walked back and forth over their heads, speaking in their native tongue as they finished bringing Nikolas' supplies in. Before long, they reboarded the launch to the mainland and were gone, leaving only the guards that patrolled the perimeters.

Robert let go of his accomplice and began to slowly swim up from under the docks. A steep, slippery embankment awaited him and he waited until he had secured his footing on some of the boulders before offering a hand to Elizabeth and pulling her up.

She was a quicker climber than he was and was soon poking up to see if the guards were nearby. The two men in dark suits and trench coats were walking away, their backs to the docks as they continued their watch and she quickly motioned to Robert that the coast was clear before scurrying up onto the land.

The agent was right behind her and followed her doggedly as they ran silently over the underbrush. The moon was large and low in the sky, guiding them along as they sought protection from the night watch.

Robert spotted a large clump of bushes that his mark had told him of and led the way, knowing without looking over his shoulder that Elizabeth was right behind. They hid there before creeping around toward the back, sticking close to the stone and the overgrown ivy that climbed the walls.

"This way," he murmured, motioning toward the part of the building that jutted out from the rest of the mansion, guarded at the top by several ornately carved gargoyles. "The library – that's our way in."

Elizabeth nodded, and Robert knew by the way she frowned that she was mentally pulling up the floor plans of the Gothic mansion from the brief time that she had spent living there. He had originally planned to head to Wyndemere alone while she went and helped Luke and Lucky orchestrate the plan that Jason and Sonny had come up with, but soon changed his mind when he learned that Elizabeth knew the lay of the crypt far better than he did. Her keen observation and sense of direction had proved vastly useful to him in the past – even though the girl still hadn't mastered how to properly align her chi to the Earth's magnetic pull – and he wasn't going to leave her behind.

Another pair of guards appeared right on schedule and Robert and Elizabeth stuck close to the overgrown hedges to escape detection. The men passed soon enough and only when the agent was sure it was safe did the two of them creep out into the open.

A mad dash to the library ensued and the pair immediately tucked themselves in between the massive pillars that stretched up to meet the gargoyles at the top. Robert smirked at her, reaching for his own black satchel and pulling out a grappling hook before holding his hand out to the girl.

"This is what I live for, doll," he winked as Elizabeth pulled the heavy rope from her satchel and handed it to him. "Oh, I haven't been able to do this since…Mogadishu. Watch me, now."

The brunette nodded, taking careful note as Robert fixed the rope to the hook just as he had showed her back at the studio. Once it was secure, he looked around to make sure they were truly alone. They had about three minutes and ten seconds until the next security team appeared around the corner and endangered their safety, and Robert knew to make the best of it.

He stepped out into the open, squinting up at a menacing gargoyle on the roof of the library. The hook made a low whooping sound as he swung it in the air over his head, waiting for it to gather enough force from the centrifugal motion.

Elizabeth licked her lips as the detective let go and watched the hook sail to the top of the library tower where it found itself wedged right behind the gargoyle's stone foot. Robert tugged fiercely, making sure the line was secure before motioning her forward.

"Take this line in one hand and this in the other," he directed quickly, placing the rope in her hands. "Start with a jump, brace your feet on the bottom and apply force with this line as you use this one to hoist yourself up. Go quickly now, you got it?"

The brunette looked up at him hesitantly, troubling her bottom lip. "Um…"

Robert shook his head, knowing he'd asked too much of her too quickly and took the ropes from her hand. "Watch me, doll, and do just as I do."

Elizabeth nodded, stepping back as the agent secured the lines in his hand and began to hoist himself up, climbing up the side of the stone edifice. He moved quickly with the agility of a gymnast, working methodically to get to the top of the tower. It didn't look very difficult, and she figured she could do it now that he had shown her – as long as it only took about five seconds to get over her mild fear of heights.

He was at the top now, swinging gracefully over the growling stone creature. Robert wrapped an arm around the gargoyle's thick neck as he peered down to the ground where Elizabeth stood and motioned for her to follow.

The brunette nodded and grasped the lines in her hands, unable to keep from tugging hard to make sure they were still secure. Sucking in a deep breath of cool night air, she backed up and then sprang toward the stone, bracing her feet as she strained to pull with her arms.

It was much more difficult than she had imagined and the petite young woman struggled to balance her weight with the upward motion. Robert waited at the top, motioning for her to hurry and Elizabeth grunted, continuing to fight her way to the top.

She was three-quarters of the way when she heard the detective issue a cricket whistle, their secret signal. The brunette froze, knowing instantly what he meant: the next guards were up in ten seconds.

Robert's pleading blue eyes met hers but the agent had no choice but to duck out of sight lest his position be revealed. Not knowing what to do, Elizabeth looked around frantically and spotted a window five feet to her left. Left with few other options, she tightened her grip on the rope and maneuvered herself sideways, praying that she would miraculously hit the ledge in time.

The two guards appeared around the bend, smoking together and talking idly as they inspected the perimeter. Elizabeth grappled quietly with the line, finally managing to make contact with the wide sill.

Not bothering to look inside the room, she eased her way onto the ledge and cowered in the shadows, hoping that neither man would look up and notice the ten feet of black cord that dangled from the gargoyle's paw to her hideout.

They walked painfully slowly and Elizabeth didn't move a muscle as she watched them gradually inch out of view. Breathing a sigh of relief, she grabbed the rope again and tugged, making sure it was still secure. But her position change had made it less so, and with one good tug it came down in her hands, almost sending her careening off the foot-wide ledge herself.

She stared at the rope as if not fully believing that it was in her hands now instead of anchored to the roof. Her heart skipped a beat as she grasped the hook, still not believing that she had lost her foothold and was now stranded on the cathedral arch windowsill.

But she didn't have to wait long. Elizabeth barely realized what was happening until she saw another heavy black cord fall in front of her face, tumbling down to about ten feet off the ground. Hesitantly, she reached out to make sure it was real and once she knew it was, she tested it for its secure position.

When it didn't budge from its anchor position, Elizabeth took it in both of her hands and turned slowly on the ledge until only her toes were braced there. Robert's topaz eyes were on her once again and she could see the detective motioning her up.

Gritting her teeth, Elizabeth let go of the ledge and began to climb up once more, readily reaching out for Robert's hand as soon as she came within reach. The agent grabbed her fast, gripping her hand securely with his own and hoisted her up as Elizabeth let go of the rope.

She let out a heavy breath as soon as her feet hit solid ground, bracing her hands on her knees and taking a moment to just stand still. "Oh, my God. Never again, Robbie."

"Not so fast, doll," he smirked, rubbing a hand soothingly over her back. "We've still got the way down, remember?"

Elizabeth groaned good-naturedly, relieved now that they were at least out of sight. "Sorry about that."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Robert assured her, leading her away from the edge of the building. "You did what you had to do – you kept out of sight and you didn't expose the rest of us. Good work."

"The rest of us?" she repeated, looking around the empty roof until her eyes fell on another tall, broad-shouldered man dressed in all black.

"Took you long enough," the man groused jokingly, still crouched by the glass panes toward the middle of the library. When he was finished inspecting the dark room below, he rose to his feet and walked over, flipping his dusty blonde hair out of his eyes as he stuck a hand out toward his old friend's new accomplice.

"Pegasus, Wildcard - I'm glad you both made it unharmed," he nodded, shaking her small hand as Elizabeth looked up at him in shock. "Frisco Jones, at your service."


	41. 41

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 41**

"All's secure."

Robert nodded at Elizabeth upon hearing Frisco's voice over the transmitter and immediately passed her the lowering rope. "Down you go, doll."

She pursed her lips and swung her legs off the edge of the heavy pane so they dangled through the hole in the glass that Frisco had cut with his special knife. Taking a deep breath, she grasped the rope and lowered herself off the roof into the library, sliding rather than climbing down to the floor in her haste to be on solid ground again.

Frisco smirked, taking the rope from her gloved hands and tugging on it to let Robert know they were ready. It took the detective twenty seconds to slip down to the bottom and he left the rope as it was, hanging limply in the middle of the room.

"We're sure there are no trigger sensors, right?"

Frisco nodded firmly. "I did a thorough sweep, and we're clear to move. What are we looking for, Robert? Any idea?"

"A safe," the agent answered quietly, searching out Elizabeth in the darkness with his flashlight. "Any kind of safe or vault. Would you know anything about that, Elizabeth?"

The other agent looked at him strangely, then at the girl. "What are you asking her for?"

"Elizabeth lived here once," Robert replied, looking around the massive library. "She knows some of the tunnels and the sort, so she's our best chance."

"All right, Wildcard," Frisco smirked, ushering the young woman forward. "What have you got for us? Where do we begin?"

"I…I know that the tunnels, for one thing, are worthless," the brunette answered slowly. "At least, the main tunnels that have triggers in the bookshelves. Nothing is hidden in them. They've been cleaned and swept out and are just as much a part of the house as any of the rooms. Ms. Lansbury even has air fresheners in there."

"Charming," Robert murmured, following the pair toward the door to the library. Frisco cracked it open and when he was sure it was safe, motioned them forward. "Anything that you remember in this house, Elizabeth? Have you ever seen Helena here?"

"Never," she replied honestly. "But… there is this one wing of the house that Nikolas wouldn't let anyone go to when Lucky, Gia and I stayed here."

"Why not?"

"He said it was the darkest part of Wyndemere to him, and he couldn't stand to be there anymore. He used to love it there when he was a young boy and Stefan would secretly bring him here, but after he officially came to Port Charles…he said he couldn't stand it there any longer."

"Well, that'll be our first stop," Robert remarked with a shrug. "Any idea where it is?"

"Top floor, the farthest part of the West Wing."

"Figures," Frisco muttered, motioning them back into the library. "We'll be safer if we take the stairs in there. I don't have enough gas to knock out every nosey staff member."

Elizabeth smirked and ducked back into the massive room, heading immediately for the winding staircase that led to the topmost shelves of books. This was where Nikolas kept various religious manuscripts that he owned, and she knew the vast majority of the texts were written in Russian and Greek.

"Did you get all the information, Robert?" the other agent wanted to know as they quickly ascended the steps. "Your friend Spencer tapped into the server and has been in contact with Bunbury and the rest. Have you heard from him?"

"Not a word after the explosion," Robert replied with a quick shake of his head. "It wasn't safe. We have our own sources, and I think I know where to look."

"And that would be?"

"We're searching for an antidote to a deadly virus," the detective started as Elizabeth pulled out a copy of the Bhagavad-Gita and waited for a shelf to move and reveal a secret passage. "The clue that first led us to this path lead me to believe that this has been a long time in the works, and that Helena recently pulled it out of her stockpile for use."

"All right…"

"This connects directly with the Spencers, as you know," he continued. "And Helena's always been an ardent fan of poetic justice. If I'm right, the antidote is hidden very near a work of priceless art."

"Art? Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Just like in Mexico," Elizabeth muttered, leading the way down the dark tunnel with only her small flashlight to guide the way. "Oooh, this one smells like jasmine."

Robert shook his head, amused, as Frisco tried to catch a whiff of the scent. "Just like in Mexico," he agreed. "The treasure was hidden alongside the most beautiful gems in the world, Frisco. I have no reason to believe that this will be any different. Over the years, I've finally come to understand that there is indeed a method to Helena's madness."

"There's one thing missing," Frisco spoke up, following Elizabeth as she turned and continued to march down the tunnel. "I wasn't told what you and Spencer were after in Mexico and how it relates to this. What was the artifact, Robert?"

"A ruby necklace," he replied softly. "A silver necklace with a gigantic ruby the size of my closed fist. Never seen anything like it in my entire goddamn life."

"A ruby…" Frisco repeated, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement. "Well, that's close."

"Close to what?"

"I was thinking you'd tell me that you were after magic crystals," he grinned, elbowing his old friend roughly. "Just like Spock, our favorite old bastard."

"Oh, Spock," Robert laughed, his shoulders shaking at the mere memory. "I was just thinking about him the other day. I wonder where he is now…"

"Who's Spock?" Elizabeth wanted to know as she continued to search the tunnels, hoping all the while that her sense of direction hadn't let her down. "Another agent?"

"…Not really," Frisco hedged, glancing at his partner. "Forget I mentioned-"

"It's all right," the detective assured him, tipping his head at the petite brunette. "She's on the level. Elizabeth, Spock was an old friend of ours that we met right here in Port Charles. We called him Casey Rogers in public."

"In public? What do you mean?"

"…Spock wasn't from around here," Frisco spoke up, his hazel eyes twinkling with mirth. "In fact, he wasn't within a cooee of here."

Robert let out a bark of laughter at that, and Elizabeth couldn't help but turn around at stare at the two men. "What are you laughing about? Where was Casey Rogers from, then?"

"Oh, the real Casey Rogers was a felon that died in the state penitentiary about twenty years ago," Frisco replied casually, brushing his hair out of his eyes. 

"Then why…"

"Spock just took his name, love," Robert smirked, chuckling to himself. "He found it in one of Anna's case files and adopted it as his own."

"You two don't make any sense," the young woman huffed, once again marching down the tunnel. "All this stuff about magic crystals and dead felons…"

"Spock was an alien," Frisco quipped, unable to mask a grin when Elizabeth spun around to stare at him in shock. "An extra-terrestrial from the planet Lumina."

"Oh, right," she got out, her eyes darting back and forth between the two agents. "I'm supposed to believe that."

Robert shrugged. "Believe what you want, doll. But our pal Spock was an extra-terrestrial who came to Earth from the planet Lumina to find his magic crystals."

Elizabeth laughed at that, finally spotting the door that she had been searching for and leading them to it. "Oh, Robbie, I bet you had some _great_ bedtime stories to tell Robin back in the day."

"Speaking of Robin," the agent grinned, motioning for Frisco to check the opening, "ask her yourself if you two ever meet again – he was more her friend than ours."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, waiting until Frisco gave the signal to move. "I don't believe you."

Robert shrugged and followed her out. "As long as you don't tell our friends at the CIA, FBI or Interpol, doll, I'm happy."

Frisco grinned and pulled the trigger for the wall to slide back into itself. Robert glanced around the dark corridors before heading due west as Elizabeth followed, still murmuring softly to herself about aliens and crystals.

"Where now, doll?"

"You can't get to the hidden wing through the hallway," she told them, making her way over to a nearby window seat that overlooked the harbor. "Nikolas had it boarded up, but he told Lucky that there was a secret trigger around here somewhere…Robbie, help."

The agent immediately moved to grab the cushions off the bench as Frisco turned up his flashlight, and the pair tinkered around for a minute before Elizabeth's finger finally found the small button under the seat.

"Got it," she crowed, jumping back as the window seat disappeared into the floor, revealing a set of stairs that led down to the hollow crawl space underneath. "This way."

Frisco and Robert followed without question, but soon found themselves lagging a few yards behind her due to the constricted space. Elizabeth moved nimbly through the passage and soon found the exit, leading them up to the surface once more.

Robert and Frisco eased out of the cramped space and looked around, beaming their flashlights into the empty hallway. "This is it?"

"This is it," Elizabeth nodded. "This has to be it, because it's where the tunnel stops. But…I've never been here before, either, so I'm no better off than you two right now."

"Well, at least we've got _something_," Frisco murmured, his flashlight moving toward the end of the hallway where it turned the corner. "Let's start."

"But where?" the brunette wanted to know, looking helplessly around her. "We have no idea where to begin."

"Yes, we do," Robert disagreed, aiming his flashlight at the large paintings that lined the hall. "And here it is."

"The paintings?" Elizabeth frowned, staring at an equestrian portrait of Nikolas when he was five years old. "But…these are all just paintings of Nikolas."

"Not so," the agent murmured, motioning her forward as Frisco followed closely. "These are photos of Nikolas, Helena, Stavros…and Laura."

Elizabeth gasped when Frisco aimed his light at the next photo, resting on the solemn face of Lucky's mother. "Oh…"

"Now do you see why this hallway was off-limits, doll?" Robert asked softly, studying the other photos slowly. "God, I can barely stand it. The pain radiates off the walls."

The brunette swallowed roughly, coming to a stop between Frisco and Robert as they eyed a large painting of Nikolas in Stavros' lap with Helena at his shoulder. "Um…what do we do now?"

"We get this down and see if there's anything behind it," Robert grunted, already lowering the large portrait with Frisco's help. Together, they set it down along the wall and studied the area carefully but found nothing. The frame didn't reveal any triggers, either, so they were forced to keep looking.

"What made you think it was that painting, Robbie?"

The detective frowned, studying another large portrait. "It was one of the Cassidine men with Helena being the only woman, like a widow. I just remembered…it seemed like it could be the one. Let's keep looking."

They moved methodically down the hall, studying painting after painting. Occasionally, Robert would pause at one that looked particularly promising and he and Frisco would lower it and then probe the area underneath.

Elizabeth followed along quietly, awed and just a little creeped out by all the photos of the pseudo-family. In all the family portraits, Nikolas was always sitting in Stavros' lap or standing at his side; Laura always lurked in the background, her hand on Stavros' shoulder as the rest of her seemed to bleed away into the background.

Her eyes were always painted a dark blue though Elizabeth knew firsthand that they were actually the purest shade of topaz. The altered shade made her look even more grim as she stood dressed in a very elegant but very somber black dress that further obscured her presence. 

"This one?"

Robert shook his head, frowning at another equestrian portrait of Stavros and Nikolas. "No. That's not it."

"What about this one? It's got Helena and Nikolas in it."

"No. It's not right."

"Strewth, Robert," Frisco cursed, dragging a gloved hand through his sandy hair. "Which one, then?"

"I'll know it when I see it," the agent replied in agitation. "…I'll have to."

The next one was a simple portrait of Laura and Nikolas. She sat on a dark wooden chair wearing a low-cut black dress with a tight bodice and her hair pulled back in yet another elegant twist, just like the other paintings. Nikolas appeared to be about eight and stood at her side, his hand on her shoulder as if he was restraining her from standing up.

"Can we say, obsession?" Frisco muttered, the beam of his flashlight bouncing from one painting to another. "Fair suck of the sav!"

"You should really stop mumbling, Agent Jones," Elizabeth remarked sweetly, stepping past him to study the work carefully. "I can't understand a word you're saying."

"Ignore her," Robert directed when Frisco stared at the young woman. "And make fun of her American lingo, if you have the chance. Honestly, Elizabeth – it's football, not soccer. You lousy Americans…"

"We can stand here all day, Robbie…"

"Fine," the detective muttered, moving on to the next painting. "There sure are a lot of these, aren't there?"

"They're what-if paintings."

"What?" Frisco wasn't sure he heard right. "What's that, now?"

"What-if paintings," Elizabeth answered softly, her gaze connecting with Nikolas' solemn chocolate eyes. "I've done a few before. They're sad little visions of what could have been…the family that Helena and Stavros could have had if they weren't such crazy whores."

Robert snickered and moved on to the next one, knowing that they couldn't afford to lose too much time. "I won't be sleeping for a week, I guarantee you that."

"Me neither," Elizabeth shivered, moving on past a few portraits. "I mean, I know we're dealing with Helena here, but…this is just _weird_."

They spent ten more minutes following the long hallway around the West wing of the building, removing several more paintings but finding nothing underneath. Frisco was losing patience and Elizabeth didn't blame him; after all, his own daughter was currently on a respirator and clinging to life while the other was beginning to go into seizures. Art history a la the Cassidine Royals really wasn't the first thing on his mind.

"This is it."

Both Frisco and Elizabeth spun around at the sound of Robert's quiet voice and quickly hurried back to see what he had found.

"This?" Frisco asked, looking up at a portrait of Stavros, Laura, and a baby Nikolas. "Are you sure?"

"This is it," Robert emphasized, turning to Elizabeth with a grin. "What do you think, doll? You're the artist around here – tell us."

A slow, knowing grin made Elizabeth's lips curl as her sapphire eyes moved hungrily over the illuminated portrait. Stavros wore the dark royal garments that had been in the family for centuries and Nikolas, still an infant, wore a white christening gown with several feet of lace hanging down to the floor. Laura stood behind the handsome throne that Stavros occupied, and Elizabeth could barely believe what she was seeing.

"This is it," she agreed slowly, still grinning as she studied Laura's figure. Her vibrant golden hair was down in fat waves and though she still wore a dark gown in the shot, there was a tell-tale pink flower pinned right above her ear and something powerful and resolute lurking in her bright topaz eyes. 

"Oh, my God, this is it. And you were right – it's priceless."

"Frisco – help me." Robert grasped one edge of the painting while his colleague grabbed the other and together, the two men lowered it to the floor and out of the way. This time when Robert beamed his flashlight at the wall, there was actually something there waiting for him.

"You found it," Frisco sighed with relief, already pulling his equipment out of his satchel. "A mounted wall safe – this has to be it."

"Stand back, doll," Robert directed as the other agent went to work on the lock. "Watch the master."

Elizabeth grinned and waited all of twenty-nine seconds until they heard a satisfying click and Frisco was pulling the door free. "What's inside?"

The other agent didn't look nearly as excited as he should have, and they soon found out why. "…Another safe."

Robert frowned, aiming his light at the wall for a better look. "Another one? Well, pick it."

"I can't," Frisco replied, perplexed. "There's no lock. No switch. Nothing. Just…this."

"Well, for God's sake, what is it?" Robert wanted to know. "What kind of lock is it that even you can't breach?"

"See for yourself," the younger man replied, moving out of the way so his friend could take a look. Robert bent down closer, examining the peculiar mechanism. "It's just a silver plate with some weird engraving. Is _that_ what we're after, or-"

"No," Robert replied, straightening with a triumphant gleam in his eyes. "No, you were right before – it's another safe."

Frisco looked over at him, puzzled. "Well, how do we open it? I've never seen this before. Other than attach a thermite line and blow it to bits, I don't know what to do with it."

"No," Robert agreed, this time smirking wickedly at Elizabeth who pushed her way in between them while reaching into her own satchel. "But _she_ does."


	42. 42

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 42**

Jason Morgan quickly let himself into his best friend's penthouse, securing the door behind him. His footsteps were lighter now, and quicker, as he moved with renewed hope and resolve.

He found the houseguests in the kitchen, rooting through two large duffel bags and didn't waste any time with pleasantries.

"It's time."

"You bet your ass it is," Luke retorted, snorting to himself as he tossed a black cord to his son. "Welcome back, Morgan."

He ignored the remark and moved into the kitchen. "Robert and Elizabeth are back in Port Charles – they went to Wyndemere right after sunset. We'll have to move fast if-"

"As usual, we're way ahead of you," Luke replied as Lucky loaded the super-thermate chamber into the cartridge. "Our WSB pal is moving in on the antidote – fine. The rest of the town is holed away in General Hospital – fine. But guess what your boy's up to."

"Alcazar?"

"The same," Lucky replied, locking the cartridge in place and adding the circuitry and the timer before loading it carefully into a half-filled black container. "He just made tracks over to Helena's yacht to pick a few bones with her."

"About Brenda," Jason guessed, crossing his arms over his chest as Luke carefully handed his son another thermite chamber and a vial of sulfur to help the compound cut quickly through reinforced steel.

"Yup," the young man nodded, not taking his eyes off his work as he carefully set up the explosive devices and loaded them into his container. "Went off about how he didn't know of the virus and how this wasn't part of the deal."

"He's an even bigger idiot than we thought," Luke snorted, trying to hold back a hacking cough. "Helena would sooner kill him than care."

"He went on and on about how if anything happened to Brenda, he'd kill her," Lucky added, rolling his eyes and placing the next explosive into the container before looking around for his detonator. "He wants her to give Brenda the antidote right away or she's done for."

"Idiot," Luke repeated, tossing his son a few batteries and locking up the container of explosives. "But it works very well for us, because this is it. It's time for you boys to do your thing."

"Now's the time to move," Lucky agreed. He moved to check the container before carefully and painstakingly placing it on the bench. "Alcazar's distracted by Brenda's health and we're about as close to the antidote as we're going to get – for now."

"We get these puppies set up and then we play the waiting game," Luke nodded, his pale blue eyes darting toward Jason. "Everything ready?"

"It's all set," he nodded immediately. "I don't want to put anyone on this but Johnny and Max, and I'll pick up the rest of the spots myself."

"Not going to work," Lucky disagreed, shaking his head and pulling a list off the refrigerator. "While you were out, we got in touch with Sonny and made a list of the spots to hit. We divided them up between four people and laid out the safest and most efficient routes. If we're only using Johnny and Max, then I'll come with."

"This is going to be costly, Jason," Luke informed him quietly. "You know that. Are you sure you and Sonny are ready to do this?"

"At this point," Jason replied, quirking a brow at his former associate as Johnny and Max finally made their way into the kitchen, "we're ready to do anything."

----------------------------------------------

"Dad, I swear to God-"

Noah Drake glared at his son, resting his hands on the counter to regain his balance as the world tilted around him. "Patrick, I'm _fine_. Not another word."

"If you're fine, then who the hell did I have that bed set up for?" the younger man growled, gesturing toward the waiting room that was now the only place in the hospital with room left for more patients. "Dad, you have a fever of one-hundred-and-four and you can't even stand up straight. Lie down."

"Patrick-"

"Do you remember what happened to Nurse Hardy?" he persisted, refusing to back down. "She collapsed on the job and has been unconscious for the past three days. And now she's on a respirator. Go lie down, Dad – I'm not going to say it again."

"Can I get that in writing?" Noah snarled back, turning away from his son and grabbing another stack of charts that one of his nurses had left for him.

"Fine – go ahead and die on your feet," Patrick muttered, slamming his clipboard down on the counter. "And forget I ever said anything."

"I'm not going to stop working, son," the older man finally spoke, not looking at his boy. "I can't. The minute I stop is the minute I give up on our patients, and that's something I'm not prepared to do."

"A lot of good you'll do them, unconscious," Patrick huffed, stomping away from the nurse's station to check on his own patients.

Bobbie Spencer watched him leave and slowly approached her ex-husband, touching his arm lightly when he didn't notice her presence. Noah spun around instantly and she knew he regretted it by the way he winced and pressed his fingers to his temples.

"You know," she started hesitantly, tilting her head to the side. "Maybe he's right. Maybe you should take a break, Noah. You've been on your feet for forty-eight hours…"

"Barbara, I'm fine," he replied tersely. "Honestly. I wouldn't say so if I wasn't."

"I think you would," she sighed, squeezing his shoulder when he turned back to his charts. "I think you're trying to be as optimistic as possible – hoping that it will go away if you say so. Please, Noah, just rest for an hour, that's all I ask. I'll cover your rounds until then. How about it?"

"I can't right now," he shook his head firmly. "I have to check on Georgie Jones and then the Quartermaines."

"But after that?"

"…After that I might be persuaded to rest my eyes for a moment."

"That's all I ask," she smiled tightly back, patting his arm before ducking out of the station to check on her own son and daughter. Lucas was still fast asleep just as he had been for the past thirty hours. His seizures hadn't started yet, and for that Bobbie was extremely grateful.

Carly was at least awake when Bobbie stepped into the small hospital room, but she could see instantly from her red and puffy eyes that her daughter had been crying profusely. Sonny lay in Michael's bed, holding the small boy close to him as they both slept. He had about twenty minutes left until his son's next seizure hit.

Bobbie's soft green eyes tried to catch her daughter's downcast gaze, but Carly remained studying the floor with her thumbnail captured between her teeth. Dr. Meadows had left the charts at the foot of the bed and the doctor quickly picked them up, immediately checking to see the notes on her grandchild.

The baby was doing fine – better than anyone had hoped. The other lone pregnant woman in the hospital was showing similar results. The mothers would grow progressively weaker as the virus attacked their systems, but all of the remaining energy that the body could muster would be directed at the well being of the fetus. Neither Carly nor the other pregnant patient had experienced seizures yet, which was an extremely promising sign.

Bobbie set the chart back into the bin and moved toward her daughter, reaching out hesitantly to brush her thick golden hair out of her eyes. Her daughter was dangerously warm, and it killed Bobbie to see her like this. Carly closed her eyes, pursing her lips together when she felt another wave of tears prick at the back of her eyes.

"How are you doing, sweetheart?"

The blonde shook her head, furiously trying to squelch a sob and failing. Bobbie clucked softly and soothed her fingers through the younger woman's thick hair, murmuring soft words of comfort.

"It'll be okay, Carly, I promise," she whispered, finally letting her hand come to rest lightly on her daughter's belly.

Carly shook her head, placing one hand on top of her mother's and squeezing fiercely. "You can't say that – you don't _know_ that."

"No," the doctor agreed reluctantly. "But I _feel_ it. I feel it, Carly. You're going to be fine, and so is Michael and your baby. We're all going to be fine, sweetheart. We just have to believe that if we stand a chance."

A sardonic smile made Carly's lips twitch. "You've been talking to Noah again."

"Yeah, well," Bobbie smirked back, patting her daughter's stomach gently. "It can be forgiven, right? Extenuating circumstances. Just don't tell your uncle or he'll never let me hear the end of it."

The mention of Luke made Carly's eyes flood with tears once more and Bobbie drew her hand away as the younger woman swiped them away. "He better fix this."

The doctor's shoulders slumped and she looked away for a moment, blinking back her own tears. "Carly-"

"They _better_ fix this," the blonde choked out, resting back limply on the pillow. "They've been gone since before it started doing God knows what and now we're supposed to pretend they're dead – and for what? Where _are_ they?"

Bobbie frowned, not sure what her daughter was talking about. "Sweetheart-"

"Michael's so sick," Carly wheezed, her eyelids beginning to droop. "I want him to hold his baby brother or sister in his arms, Mama – I've never wanted anything more than that. And I swear, if that little milkmaid and that James Bond wannabe don't find a way to make that happen, I'll take their halos and shove them up their-"

"Carly," Bobbie interrupted, cupping her daughter's chin as the younger woman began to nod off. "What are you talking about?"

"Robert and Elizabeth _better_ find a way to fix this," Carly murmured, her eyes rolling backward as she slipped into blackness once more.

-------------------------------------------------

"You sure you've got enough, now?" Frisco pulled up the rope through the skylight in the library, glancing at the small black pouch that Elizabeth was carefully zipping up. "I'd hate to find out too late that we made a blue."

Robert nodded, wincing as he pulled an empty syringe out of his skin and disassembled it before slipping it into his satchel. "We've got it – this will do well for us."

"Got the needles?"

"Got 'em," Elizabeth replied with a curt nod. "We're ready to go."

"Good to hear it," Frisco nodded, zipping up his own bulging backpack after making sure everything was packed securely. "Let's make tracks, gang."

"Move fast, Frisco," Robert directed, shaking his old friend's hand firmly. "You don't have much time to get that to the lab before it goes bad."

The agent nodded and hefted the backpack, easily slipping it on. He winked at Elizabeth and prepared to slip off into the shadows to wait for his colleagues. "You two need to get off the island first, otherwise we're all done for. You have transportation back?"

Robert nodded, jingling the keys that he had lifted from inside the Gothic mansion. "We're as good as gone, Frisco. Just a straight drop and ten yards to the boat."

"Good luck, Agent Jones," Elizabeth added, securing her own satchel tightly around her waist. "Goodbye."

"I don't believe in that, Wildcard," he winked again. "No need to say goodbye to me – I'm always around, whenever I'm needed."

The brunette nodded, knowing that Maxie and Georgie were never far from their father's mind. If Port Charles was in danger, she knew well enough by now to know that Frisco would come charging back at a moment's notice. "Til you're needed again, then."

"Til then," Frisco agreed, slipping away into the shadows to wait for his lift as Robert secured the line.

"Down we go, doll," he murmured, glancing at his watch to make sure they were on schedule. "Oh, good, we've plenty of time – five minutes and forty-two seconds til the guards swing 'round again. We can even stop to the smell the roses, if you like."

"Maybe some other time," Elizabeth drawled, rolling her eyes as the agent began to descend, scaling vertically down the building in a series of small jumps. She followed suit and managed to get down to solid ground without any mishaps, and the brunette quickly surveyed their path as Robert tugged the line down and put it away.

"There, right? That's it?" she asked, pointing toward the smaller pier that had long since fallen into disrepair.

"That's it," Robert agreed, already leading the way to their getaway vehicle. He glanced at his watch again, out of habit. "About three more minutes til Frisco's team picks him up."

"If he does what he has to do, then at least the rest of the people are safe," Elizabeth mused, jogging quickly alongside the agent and breathing just as he had taught her.

Robert nodded in agreement. "Then it's just us, the Spencers, and your boys who have our balls in a vice – pardon the language, doll. No, we're definitely headed straight into the dragon's den. But at least Port Charles will rise again, even if we do not."

« _Last Edit:_ Aug 12, 2006, 11:29am by Huma the Guma »


	43. 43

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 43**

"Check point."

"Quit saying that," Johnny hissed, resisting the urge to biff Max across the back of the head. "We're not playing one of your damn video games. Just sit down, shut up and let's hope that Jason and Lucky show up so that we can get our asses out of here."

Max frowned darkly at his edgy friend and looked toward the far end of the alley when he heard footsteps. Sure enough, Jason was jogging quickly over toward the spot that they had all agreed to meet after they were done to make sure everything had gone down properly.

"Boss," he nodded, inwardly relieved now that it wasn't just him and Johnny lurking in a dark alley. "Everything go smooth?"

Jason nodded quickly, holding an empty satchel tightly in his right hand. "You two run into any problems?"

"Nope."

"I did, but I took care of him," Johnny replied blandly, glancing at his watch. "Where's Spencer? He should be here by now."

"Right here," they heard a low voice and all three men looked over as Lucky scaled a wire fence and leaped to the bottom. "Everyone did what they were supposed to? No one fucked this up?"

"Who do you think you're dealing with?" Johnny wanted to know, wanting now more than ever to get out of the alley. Something was brewing, but he couldn't figure out what. Still, his sixth sense told him that they needed to move, and fast. "We're not amateurs."

"Duly noted," Lucky muttered, peeling his glove up so that he could check his watch. "Okay, we're a little late, but that's no skin off anyone's teeth. All in all, we made good time. Now we have to get back to the penthouse as soon as possible and help my dad with the rest of it. Everything's gotta be in place before he moves."

Jason nodded, his body running now purely on nerves and adrenaline. The fever stayed with him, but he felt he could manage it. "What's left for us to do?"

"Just a few things back at the penthouse," Lucky repeated, not wanting to waste time talking unnecessarily out in the open. "We also have to get a few things through the connection and we're golden. Dad's bound to have some more information for us when we get back so let's move."

"Good plan," Johnny agreed readily, already moving away from the small group. "Max and I scouted out the most secure route back and if we stick to it we'll be just fine. Come on, move your asses; I hate it out here."

"Better do what Nancy-Boy says," Max advised them as the group quickly followed with Lucky taking up the rear. "Otherwise he gets majorly pissy."

"Knock it off." Johnny scowled, looking over his shoulder at every turn as he led the group down the network of alleys. His friends in the business did nothing but mock him when he told him that he could feel something bad heading their way, so he had given up on that. But that didn't prevent him from bullying the ragtag team along as he hurried to get back to the escape hatch.

"Every time, it's the same," Max could be heard telling his boss as they followed through the darkness. "He comes down with a feeling or a vision or whatever the hell it is and suddenly it's all, the sky is falling, the sky is falling! If he really had the talent, he'd be picking lotto numbers, you know?"

"Max, will you knock it the fuck off?" Johnny turned over his shoulder, snarling at his best friend. "First, Jason doesn't care. Second, I hate your ass. Third-"

"There – grab him!"

Jason and Max whirled around to see that Lucky, who had been lagging a few feet behind to make sure they were making a secure getaway, had been grabbed by a very displeased group of men, all brandishing revolvers and pistols.

"Lucky Spencer," one of them growled, his beefy arm securely around the shorter young man's throat as he held his knife poised to slit his neck. "Finally came out of hiding, huh, boy?"

Pure Spencer instinct kicked in before anything else and Lucky grappled with the man, managing to lever the knife away from his throat. He would have gotten away had not one of the man's friends sucker-punched him the gut, sending him folding over and wheezing for breath.

"Watch your step," another warned, pointing his gun at the threesome. "And don't do anything stupid. All we want is your friend, here. No one else."

"No, no, that's fine," Johnny surprised all of them by saying, and Max stared as the Irishman waved a hand carelessly at the other young man. "That's what we were doing, too."

"What?"

"We just found the little bastard," he frowned, glaring daggers at his young friend as Lucky managed to breath regularly. He nodded discreetly, knowing what Johnny was doing as Max took the moment to ease a step closer to the small mob. "He was lurking around behind Eli's over there, trying to get some food. No doubt trying to get it back to his old man. We would have waited and let him take us straight to Luke, but we figured he'd find out he was being tailed and take us somewhere else."

"Yeah, you never can trust a Spencer," Max spat, slipping a few steps closer without making the other men feel threatened. "But this time, he's not getting away. He's going straight to Helena."

"With him on the yacht, Luke's damn sure to follow," Johnny agreed as Jason stepped up to his side. "Then she can kill the both of them, toss their corpses overboard, and give us the antidote."

"Do you guys know the way to Helena's yacht?" the Italian asked, trying to be helpful. "I mean, you've got to since you nabbed him thinking the same thing, right?"

"Uh, yeah, we know," one of the men responded somewhat hesitantly. "The harbor, right? That's where her ship is?"

"Yeah, but there's an easier way to get there." Johnny stepped forward confidingly as Jason followed suit, gesturing to a nearby alley. "See, there's a launch that comes in every night to get fresh food and water to this little rat's half-brother on the island, see? And if you go this way, you can – get your ass kicked."

Lucky jammed his elbow into his captor's stomach as soon as Johnny gave the signal and together, he and the Irishman wrestled the man to the ground and lifted his knife. The man's friends leapt at Jason and Max who dealt blows right and left, knowing that it was more important to get safely out of sight than do the men in.

Max clocked a man on the jaw and sent him sprawling, and kicked another man away without waiting to see him hit his head on a nearby dumpster. Jason pulled a gun from his assailant easily and used the butt as a weapon, pistol-whipping him into submission.

"Go, go!" Johnny slammed a tall man in grimy jeans into the wall, not even wincing when he heard bone meet brick. Jason took one look around him and took off after Max, and Lucky grabbed the Irish guard's arm and the two disappeared down the same path.

They caught up with their associates easily as Max led the way, and Lucky swiped his damp blonde locks out of his eyes with a gloved hand as he glanced sideways at his friend.

"You know," he panted, "it's always been dangerous to be a Spencer, but this is crazy. It sure would help if Dad and I were dead like Robert and Elizabeth."

-----------------------------------------

"How did it go?" Luke's pale blue eyes anxiously sought out his son as the four tall men filtered into the kitchen, weary but determined to forge on. "Anybody missing an eye? A leg? The will to live?"

Jason shook his head, whipping off his black gloves and tossing them onto the kitchen table along with his empty black bag. The guards followed suit and collapsed on the bench, gratefully accepting the bottled water Sonny handed them. "It was fine."

"I wasn't asking you – you don't ever talk. I see a lot of therapy sessions in you and Elizabeth's future." Luke frowned, his worried gaze finally coming to rest on his son as the young man shuffled over, leaning his tired body on the island. "Cowboy? You okay?"

"We picked a great time to make our move," he laughed despite himself. "You're a pretty popular guy right now, you know."

"Let me guess – you met Cletus and the Local Yokels, poised and ready to hold you ransom for me." Luke scrubbed a hand over his jaw then crossed his arms over his chest when the young man nodded. "What's the damage?"

"We'll probably find out when they regain consciousness," Lucky shrugged, pushing himself back onto his feet and heading over to his equipment that was partially buried under gloves and satchels. "Watch the stuff, guys – this is my life here."

Johnny smirked and shoved the articles aside, not bothering to even glance over when a glove fell to the floor. "We'll be fine, Luke. The only damage is that they know you and Lucky haven't left town. You'll just have to be very careful when you move out."

Luke shrugged, not overly concerned with that phase of the plan. "Not really. As long as none of them messed with your plan, it's fine. All that's left is getting in to see the old girl. It doesn't matter if I waltz in myself or if I let some Bubba drag me in by my hair. Either way, I get in there – although I don't think I'll waltz. It's kind of schmaltzy."

Max smirked, resting his head on his arms as he tried to psyche himself up for the next part of the plan. He lost count on how many hours he had been running without sleep or even a decent meal; all he knew was that this was the most crucial part of the plan and if he failed to do what was expected of him, they'd all go down. "How much time do we have?"

"Cowboy's on that, I'm sure," Luke sighed, smirking as he watched his boy tinker with his laptop. "Honestly, son, you slap a wig and some lipstick on that pile of circuitry and I swear I'll get off your back about finding a nice girl."

The young man shot his father a nasty glare over his shoulder and Jason chuckled though profoundly disturbed by Luke's remarks. "The connection's quiet now, so I'm going to synch up the devices and make sure they're functioning. If no one fucked anything up, it'll be quick."

"No one fucked anything up," Johnny insisted, frowning at his newest associate. "Although _Max_ definitely _will_ be fucked up if he ever makes fun of me again."

"I really hate this guy," the Italian muttered to Sonny, shaking his head. "There'll be no living with him after this."

"Then move out. That'll be better than me getting stiffed every month for rent."

"Hey, you pay more because I said you could have the master bedroom," Max retorted, rolling his eyes. "Remember that, Martha Stewart? You wanted the biggest closet for your suits."

"Yeah, because I don't believe in only buying two suits and alternating them through the week, then walking around in my college sweats when they're at the dry-cleaners!"

"If you two don't knock it off, I'm doubling your rent," Sonny informed them blandly, slicing his hand through the air. "And if _anyone's_ getting stiffed every month, it's me. I let you take that penthouse for peanuts…"

"Can't back out now, Boss," Max was quick to remind him. "We have a five year lease – we ain't going nowhere."

"Great," Sonny drawled, setting a hand on the back of Lucky's chair as the boy clicked away on his keyboard. "I'll do a little dance later."

"Don't you love it when the kids get along?" Luke asked, directing a beaming smile at the enforcer. Jason stared at him, then promptly turned on his heel and walked over to the opposite end of the kitchen.

"Lucky?" The boy didn't even glance up at the sound of the mobster's voice. "Any way we can speed this up?"

"No."

"I thought so," Jason sighed, running a hand through his dark blonde spikes.

Johnny and Max both looked up the instant Lucky's palm pilot emitted a buzzing noise. "Hey, it's trying to tell us something."

"Lucky," Max barked, slapping a hand down on the table to get the boy's attention while gesturing to the slim device with his other hand. "Little Timmy fell down a well or something."

The young man looked at him, bewildered, then typed in the last of the activation code and clicked out of the application. "It's all set and I've got the detonators with me. Let's see what's coming through…"

Luke quirked a brow as his son turned to the connection, skimming for a quick second before his eyes widened. "Anything good? Or the usual Ben-and-Jen garbage?"

"He's out," Lucky informed the group, setting the device down on the table and grabbing two detonators from the kitchen table. Without looking at the other men, he dropped them into a black backpack as Jason pulled a few firearms out from under the island. "He's on his way to the lab – Wyndemere's secure. They have it."

Luke rubbed his hands together as Jason reloaded his omnipresent Glock and tossed the guards an extra cartridge. Max reached out for the keys that Sonny produced and pocketed them quickly as the mob boss picked up a silver .49 and tucked it into the waistband of his trousers. "This is what we've been waiting for, boys. Time to pay the old girl a visit."

-------------------------------------

"Madame." Andreas' dark eyes glowed with satisfaction and anticipation as he let himself into Helena's stateroom. "The boat is approaching, driven by one of the locals. Luke Spencer is almost yours."

A thin smile stretched her lips and the Cassidine Queen lifted a hand, flicking her wrist at her trusted companion. "Thank you, Andreas. You may leave us."

"As you wish, Madame," he nodded, slipping out of the room to ready the yacht for the imminent boarding.

Helena looked out the window at the inky black water, her fingers curling around her polished cane. It was almost time. In a matter of minutes, Luke Spencer would be on her yacht, alone and entirely helpless. It had been entirely too long, and she couldn't wait to see him.

She lifted one hand, her long fingers delicately caressing the magnificent ruby around her throat. Her dark red garments rustled as she eased herself onto her feet and held her cane clasped in front of her. She would insist on looking her absolute finest for her favorite arch-nemesis.

She didn't have to wait long. The door to the stateroom slid open and her cool gaze connected instantly with his harried and intense blue eyes, hard and panicked like those of a caged animal seeing light for the first time.

His shirt was ripped and she could see faint bruises on his chest. The dark trousers he wore were muddy and frayed at the bottom, and his lip was bleeding. Her heart swelled in her chest as her eyes lingered on his damaged frame. It fed her spirit to know that he had been attacked and brutally handed over to his death by the same town that had once championed him as its hero.

"Luke." Her voice was cool and crisp as Helena eased a small step forward. "You're here."

Luke winced, touching his swollen lower lip. That Max had fists like cinderblocks. His eyes flashed as he looked up at the scorned Queen, tilting his head to the side as he looked her over. "Rings on my fingers and bells on my toes, darlin'. Only the best for you."


	44. 44

**The Battle of Who Could Care Less – 44**

"I didn't think you'd show."

Luke smirked, wagging a finger at the Cassidine matriarch as he stepped boldly closer. "You're a horrible liar. Who do you think you're talking to? We know each other better than anyone."

Helena laughed, tucking her chin into her chest. Her icy eyes darted back to him soon enough as if she couldn't stand to look away from him for long. "Yes, well, perhaps I did know. I can always judge you so well, Luke."

"Like I said," he smiled proudly, holding out his arms. "Soul mates. You're the Abbott to my Costello, darlin' – the Cher to my Sonny. The peanut butter to my jelly."

"Charmed, I'm sure," she allowed, lifting her chin in the air. "I do so enjoy our little visits, you know."

"Oh, I live for them," he agreed, smiling graciously at his hostess. "We really should do this more often."

"There's no need for that." Helena's eyes glittered as she looked the man over once more. "You see, now that you're here, I'm not letting you go."

"You naughty girl," he smirked, hunching his shoulders closer and trying to shy away like a nervous virgin on the wedding night. "Well, I'll do it, but only if you're gentle."

"There will be time for that later," she smirked, switching her bejeweled cane to the other hand. "After all, we have a wealth of time on our hands, do we not?"

"We do," Luke agreed. "But the people of Port Charles don't."

"Ah, yes, the people of Port Charles." Helena circled him slowly, taking a turn around the magnificently furnished room. "You do seem quite concerned about them. How is your sister? And her children? Has Caroline lost the baby? Dreadful business, that. And Lucky – how is our dear boy doing?"

"You know Lucky," he replied quietly. "Nothing keeps him down for long."

"Oh, yes," she chuckled softly, her intense eyes piercing into his. "Nothing."

Luke waited for her to continue but Helena didn't say a word. Instead, she lingered by the window, looking out at the town and giving him a moment to check his watch. Clearing his throat, Luke approached and stood directly behind her, his gaze on the small twinkling lights that lined the docks. 

"I'm here, just like you said. What say we talk about those peons crowded around that musty hospital, huh?"

She laughed to herself, her dainty fingers lingering on the giant necklace around her throat. "All in due time. Besides, what is the urgency? You care so much about the town that turned you in?"

"Nothing can hold a candle to how much I care for you, darlin'," he drawled, flashing her a smarmy smile. "Some things are sacred, after all."

"It must be crippling," she continued as if he hadn't spoken. "It must be crippling to know that your own family didn't care enough for you to fight."

"People can only fight so much," Luke replied, settling a hand on his hip as he stared out at the town. The boat that he had arrived on floated nearby, its lights out. "You can't ask any more from them."

"My, my, you're growing cynical." The corner of Helena's mouth twitched. "You're not nearly as optimistic as you used to be, Luke. I'm disappointed."

"And I'm heartsick to have caused you to feel that way," he feigned, holding a hand over his heart.

"I'm afraid you have nothing, Luke." Her icy eyes froze over, her gaze solidly on the dying town. "Nothing. No one."

"If the rest of the town is safe, that's good enough for me."

"Come now, you can't expect me to fall for that. You're hardly a hero, no matter what those foolish people think. You'd turn them all in to me if it meant that you could save your own hide." For the first time, her eyes flickered over to his. "It's what I like most about you."

"We come from good stock, darlin'."

"We do," she agreed, taking in his profile. "And we're the only ones left."

He didn't say anything so Helena continued, all the while stroking the massive ruby wrapped around her neck. "We're both the only ones, adrift, afloat on this harbor. Look at them, Luke. Look at that little town. All of them – every single one – dying. And in this time when…when the most naïve aspect of human nature urges one to rally together and relish the last moments, what do they do? Your sister, your niece, your own son – they all turn you in. They leave you alone…adrift…"

Her lips tightened into a thin red line. "They leave you alone, with nothing, just like my Stavros."

"Not to worry," Luke replied, puffing out his chest in false bravado. "I'm sure he's still falling down that bottomless abyss he disappeared down. Can you imagine that? Falling for two years straight? There's a reality show for you."

Her hands tightened around the cane so hard that her knuckles began to turn white from the lack of circulation. "You're a broken, defeated man and no one in the world will miss you once you've perished after a long, cruel, agonizing death."

Luke turned to look at her, his eyes wide and filled with adoration. "I think I'm falling in love with you all over again."

Helena shifted, turning smoothly on her heel to face him. Her face was a mask of granite, the cold, dead eyes glittering lethally. "It was fun for quite some time, Luke, I must give you that. We had a very good time. I've spent some of the best years of my life, since my Mikkos died, chasing after you. I will be sad to see you go, but it is inevitable. After all, my circumstances have changed."

The old man's eyes widened and he pretended to recoil in horror. "Oh, my God – are you pregnant? Is it mine?"

"Luke."

"I didn't know you could still have bats in your belfry," he replied, shaking his head. "Well, you live, you learn."

"With my Stavros gone, you are no longer worthy competition." Helena stretched her fingers before wrapping them around the large gem on her cane once more. "It ends, Luke. I have nothing to drive me on in our cat-and-mouse games anymore. You took my Stavros from me, so now I must take you from the pitifully few people who love you."

"You'd be surprised how many people love me," Luke smirked, glancing at his watch as a commotion ensued on the deck. "Ooh, right on time. I'm treating him right tonight, that's for sure."

"What – what was that?" Bewildered, Helena stalked toward the nearest door leading out onto the deck. "Andreas? Andreas, show yourself at once!"

She pushed the trigger button and waited impatiently as the door slid open. She was just about to step out when the sight before her had her recoiling instantly. Luke used her momentary shock to his advantage and grabbed her securely from behind, slipping a knife out from his waistband and holding it to her throat.

"Let's go see what all the fuss is about," he smiled down at her, wiggling his brows as he pushed out the door, effectively using her as a shield.

Helena's eyes narrowed at the sight that awaited her. Jason Morgan and one of his lowly bodyguards had boarded her yacht and were exchanging fire with her men. Three of them already lay bleeding on the floor, and the other four weren't moving.

The Irish guard nodded at something the brain-damaged one said and moved forward, using two weapons to take down her loyal men. Helena struggled in Luke's grasp, hissing when she felt his knife make a small incision into her throat.

The young man with the dark brown hair surveyed the group of guards he and his accomplice had felled, and she watched through narrowed eyes as he stuck his weapons back into their holsters and bent, grasping one of the men by the shoulders. Jason appeared at his side and lifted the man by the feet and together, they dumped him right off the edge of the boat.

His body hadn't even hit the waves before the two men reached for the other, and Helena could feel Luke's chest rumble with laughter behind her. Her blood boiled as the two hoodlums systematically tossed every one of her men overboard – even the ones that were still alive. The younger one with green eyes even had the audacity to wink at her!

Helena's nude nails bit into Luke's arm but the man still kept his knife at her throat, rocking her gently as they watched the other two work. "I bet you weren't expecting a show like this tonight," he murmured, nodding at Jason. "Luke Spencer never disappoints."


	45. 45

**The Battle of Who Could Care Less – 45**

"Now, Jason, I want you to take good notes," Luke directed, dragging Helena back into the main stateroom. Johnny followed dutifully in case the old woman tried something and the young guard immediately brought forth a handsome Victorian chair and set it down in front of him. Luke grunted softly and pushed Helena down onto it, catching the rope that Jason tossed him and using it to quickly secure her hands and feet to the chair.

"This," he finished, rising to his feet, "is what we call the Cassidine Queen. Note her birdlike features, emaciated frame, and the pristine glow that comes from sucking the blood of newborn babies. Don't get too close; she'll capture your soul if you touch her."

The enforcer snorted as Helena tested the bonds, glaring daggers at her foe. He motioned Johnny over and surveyed the room carefully, wondering if the old woman had it booby-trapped in anticipation of things gone awry. This had been too easy, too quick, and he couldn't deny that he was wary and tense as he waited for the other shoe to drop.

"I must say, Luke, I never expected this from you."

The older man smiled back at her, already heading toward the wet bar. "The commendably daring plan and the brilliant execution and follow through?"

"The sheer overwhelming idiocy."

"Ah," he acknowledged, turning around with his arms folded in front of his chest. "Well, tomato, to-mah-to."

"I don't understand what you think you're gaining from this," Helena pretended to muse, lifting her chin in the air as she slid a sly glance in Jason's direction. "I mean, surely, you're not helping any of the people of Port Charles. Not your sister, not your sister, not your niece. Oh, yes, what of Carly? And that insipid little yo-yo bastard of hers? What of them two, Luke?"

"Easy there." The oldest Spencer reached out quickly and stopped Jason who was stalking toward Helena's throne. He restrained him until the enforcer stood down, then patted his shoulder. "Never respond to the barbs immediately. It's all foreplay, Jason – you don't want to shoot your wad before the fun really starts."

"My left nut to never say anything like that again," Johnny promised, wincing as he looked out at the harbor through the open door.

"Everyone will be fine," Luke answered, a satisfied smirk making his lips curl. "I know it."

"I never pegged you to be a man of faith."

"Faith?" he pondered the word for a moment before shaking his head with disdain. "Not faith – that's overrated. I'm a fan of dumb, stupid luck. It's never let me down before."

"How lovely for you," she replied carelessly, letting out a small sigh. "I suppose the people of Port Charles believe in that sort of thing, too. They must, because that's all the hope they have left, isn't it?"

Helena tucked her chin into her chest, pretending to sadly contemplate the fate of the town. "Without the antidote, most of them won't last through the night. And even if you do somehow find a way to save them eventually, it will be hard to explain how so many died unnecessarily due to your foolish pride. Ah, but Luke Spencer is a master of words."

"I'm a master of a lot of things, darlin'," he insinuated, tossing her a wink. "And don't worry about me at all – I'm not a dumb puppy like your pal Alcazar. Say, where is old Pinocchio, anyway?"

Helena bristled when Luke leaned closer, balancing his hands on the armrest of her chair as he smirked rakishly at her. "You've already had his corpse shoved overboard, haven't you? Man, it's just so hard to find good help these days. Take me – you know that damn Claude of mine. I fire him every single day, but he keeps coming back. What's up with that?"

"You'll never be able to save them." Her hard eyes bore into his and he knew she hadn't paid attention to anything else he'd said. "You'll never find the antidote; it's hidden somewhere even the great Luke Spencer would never dare trespass."

"Are you sure about that?" Luke eased forward a step, his arms now crossed over his chest as he towered above her at his full height. "What am I supposed to be afraid of? Ghosts?"

"Yes."

"I don't believe in ghosts. The Bogeyman, yes – I even charge him rent - but not ghosts."

"Pity," she snorted, tilting her chin up defiantly. "And what of the ghosts that haunt _you_?" The light in his eyes dimmed and Helena chuckled softly, knowing her advantage. "There are some things that I'm afraid even you cannot live through again, my brave knight."

"And there are some things I'm afraid even you are really lousy at, my fair queen," he bowed, "like losing."

"Lose the battle, win the war," she murmured, once again testing her bonds. Luke moved away toward the deck to make a call and she glanced in Jason's direction, pleased to see that the enforcer was lingering uncomfortably by the mantle, his hand resting very close to one of her favorite music boxes.

"Ah, Mr. Morgan." His eyes met hers instantly, cold and betraying nothing. "Forgive my lack of manners. You seem flushed – may I offer you a seat?"

The young man didn't move, not that Helena expected him to.

"Otherwise, you're looking well," she allowed, twisting slightly in her throne. "How do you like my yacht?" No answer, no interest. "My, but I've been just about everywhere on this grand boat. The far East, Africa, up north…Do you see that music box? There, right behind your hand. Ah, one of my favorites. I found it in Italy, you know."

His eyes flickered there for a split-second, and Johnny didn't like how Helena's thin lips curved into a small smile. "You really should go, if you ever get the chance. Italy's a wonderful spot, especially for lovers. It's a pity that our Elizabeth won't be able to join you. I suppose she learned too late of…_occupational hazards_."

"Boss…" Johnny warned, holding an arm out to physically bar the mobster from Helena even though Jason hadn't moved. He knew it was hard for him to pretend like he had lost Elizabeth for good, but that was what they'd have to do. "Don't."

"Elizabeth would have loved it," Helena continued happily. "She fashioned herself quite the artist, you know. But of course, you must know. Or rather, have known. She would have loved the museums and the churches and especially the Riviera. It's such a pity when a young life with such rich potential is ended prematurely, is it not? Ah, well."

Jason's eyes were flashing; he was at least able to use his anger to create the appearance of enraged grief. Johnny cleared his throat, shaking his head as his gaze connected with his boss. He'd have to make this good because Jason certainly wouldn't be able to. "Boss, Elizabeth knew you wanted to take her to Italy. She died knowing that."

The mobster nodded at his guard's quiet voice, turning away from the Queen so that she wouldn't see that his eyes belied his lack of grief at the staged death.

"Anyone ever told you not to take the name of the dead in vain?" Luke sauntered into the main stateroom from the deck, his eyes hard and gleaming with controlled rage. Johnny let out a sigh of relief at his reappearance; at least the oldest Spencer knew how to act. "I wonder what Stavros would think about that. I bet Stavros wouldn't like it – I mean, I bet Stavros wouldn't like you taking the deceased's name in vain because, you know, Stavros is, too. Deceased, that is – Stavros is deceased. Oh, that Stavros. Stavros, Stavros, Stavros."

Helena's lips tightened into a thin red line but she remained silent, her hands twisting in the bonds behind the chair.

"Well, darling, we'd love to stay and chat, but we're kind of on a tight schedule." Luke glanced at his watch and then the dark skyline of Port Charles. "So what's say we take the antidote and then provide you with a one-way ticket to Sing-Sing? Tell you what – we'll stop for some grub on the way. You like all-you-can-eat Chinese food, right?"

Her pinky finger finally found the small trigger lodged in the woodpane along the back of her chair, and Helena smiled wickedly, tilting her chin defiantly up in the air. "You're making a mistake, Luke."

"I don't make mistakes," he corrected her, stepping closer to the center of the cabin. "I call them…brief lapses in conscientiousness. For future reference, that's also what I call hangovers."

"Hmm," she hummed, her eyes glittering as a series of dull thuds echoed underneath and around them. "And I call it the loaded barrel of a gun. Look over your shoulder, Luke."

The oldest Spencer snapped his mouth shut, rolling his eyes to the ceiling before squeezing them shut. Slowly, he turned around and opened them, pursing his lips at the sight he saw before him. "Damn it to Hell. If I knew we were having a party, I would have worn my jams. At least I've got my truss. Wait – can you tell I'm wearing a truss?"

Jason and Johnny had already drawn out their loaded weapons, exchanging nervous glances as Luke nonchalantly pulled his out of his waistband and breathed on it, polishing it with his sleeve.

"I'm afraid it's over, Luke," Helena sighed softly, wriggling in her royal chair. "The cabin is surrounded and there's no way out save being tossed overboard. But don't worry – I hear the water is excellent. Just right for a little night swim."

"Imagine that," Luke muttered, eyeing the suited men who barred each of the four doors leading out to the deck. "I forgot my swimmies and my rubber duck, too."

"Enough, Spencer," one of the guards growled, easing a step forward with his weapon pointed directly between Luke's eyes. "This ends here. All three of you – lower your weapons."

None of the men budged.

"Lower your weapon!" he repeated, teeth clenched. "Lower them and I'll personally see to it that your deaths are quick and relatively painless. You're outnumbered and alone on a harbor – no one's coming to your rescue now."

"Ever tried getting work as a psychic?" came a familiar rusty voice from the darkness. "At this point, I'd advise against it."

Luke clicked off the safety of his unused weapon the second that Robert and Max stepped into view, each standing on the opposite side of the deck. The agent, soaked through to the bone but prepared for battle nonetheless, didn't waste any more time with words and simply opened fire. Max followed suit, immediately felling three of the suited men that stood not four feet away from him.

Jason and Johnny seized their opportunity and took out the others as Luke fired away somewhat erratically, trying to dodge the leader who had his sights set solely on him.

"Step up," Robert directed Max, motioning him forward. The two had to leap over prone bodies as they moved to cover Luke. Johnny was quick to assist and they sustained fire, steadily driving the remaining henchmen out of the cabin and onto the deck. 

Jason dodged a bullet and found himself too close to another to escape. It whizzed past his shoulder, grazing him slightly, and the enforcer ducked behind an armchair holding the wound with one hand and readying his weapon with the other. In a few seconds he was on his feet once more, firing shots at the few guards that resisted inside the cabin.

He and Johnny closed up the rear as Luke, Robert and Max attempted to corner the others on the deck and Jason realized too late that they had left a crucial enemy unguarded. He whirled around on his heel, cursing when he saw that the throne Helena had occupied not minutes ago was now empty.

"Luke!"

Johnny turned around the instant he heard his boss' voice and one look at Jason told him exactly what happened. The guard jammed another cartridge into his gun and took off down the bend after Luke and Robert. "Luke! Dragon on deck!"

"-trying to get to an escape hatch!" Jason could hear the oldest Spencer yelling as he followed on the dark and slippery deck. "Seal off the lower level! Keep her up here! Move your asses – when the hell did I start working with a bunch of little girls? Move, move!"

"Boss, this way – Max has that entrance covered!"

Robert stood at the starboard, motioning Jason over. The enforcer jogged over, skidding to a halt by the agent. "Morgan, your boy has the stairs covered, took down three more late-comers. Take this side, cover Luke, and I'll go around back. Move fast, now."

He nodded briskly as Robert turned on his heel. "Robert – wait – Eliza-?"

But the agent was already halfway down the other side of the deck and not ready to stop for anything or anyone. Jason growled to himself and jogged past Max who was making his way back up to intercept Helena if she appeared on his side.

"In sight! This way!"

The two mobsters stared at each other, wide-eyed, for a brief moment before Max catapulted himself to the main level and followed hard on Jason's heels. Luke and Johnny appeared on deck a few yards ahead and scrambled to where Robert could be heard thundering down the deck.

"Move, men, move!" Luke yelled, motioning them along as he lifted his transmitter to his mouth. "Spotted – everything on check?"

_"On check. It's almost over, Dad."_

"Roger that, Cowboy," he answered, tucking the device back into his shirt pocket before the moment became any more cliché.

The enforcer slowed down to a trot as he approached the end of the yacht where Robert was actively stalking Helena. She was nowhere in sight but they all knew she was close, lurking near a trap door that would most likely take her below deck to some sort of unanticipated mode of transportation.

"Stay alert," Robert directed, his gun poised and ready as his pale blue eyes scanned the deck warily. "She's right here…very close…"

A muscle in Luke's jaw ticked rhythmically as he caressed the butt of his gun, waiting for his arch-nemesis to reveal herself. "How was Europe?"

"It's nicer in the spring," came the solemn answer. "Damn near got sick from the food in England. Had some good grub in Spain, though. Elizabeth had a lot of fun – in between the bullets and the assassins and all."

"Good to know," Luke nodded, his eyes still darting suspiciously around deck. "Everything's coming up Spencer…"

"There!"

A dark figure scuttled into the shadows and that was all the signal that the group needed. Robert took off in hot pursuit, followed closely by Jason and Johnny. Helena headed straight for a smokestack disguised as an escape hatch, and the agent pushed himself harder as he chased her down.

The Cassidine Queen moved swiftly, showing remarkable agility for her age, and her escape route was in sight just as a pair of hands grasped the edge of the boat and Jason slowed to a trot as a figure clad all in black hoisted herself up onto the deck.

Helena came stumbling to a halt as the intruder straightened, pointing a loaded gun straight at the old woman's heart. Robert came up from behind, a bright grin on his face as Elizabeth tossed her wet hair over her shoulder and swept her bangs out of her glittering eyes, the gun still aimed steadily at Helena's chest.

Luke chuckled, wheezing slightly as he caught his breath, and Johnny and Max came up at Jason's flanks with their weapons also drawn.

A wicked smile made Elizabeth's lips curl as Robert turned to face Helena, tipping his head at her in a mock bow.

"End of the line, your Highness."


	46. 46

**Note**: This is brief and contains a flashback to Mannheim-Ludwigshafen.

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 46**

"Well." Helena's stony eyes darted back and forth between her captors. "It seems like our pesky Robert Scorpio isn't the only one with nine lives."

Elizabeth grinned and clicked the safety off, caressing the beavertail tread on the butt of her gun. The old woman blinked, her eyes darting instantly toward Luke to see if her beloved nemesis would call the young woman off. But the oldest Spencer was currently engaged in picking a hangnail and didn't appear the least bit concerned as the insipid little snip eased closer with her drawn weapon.

The Cassidine matriarch swallowed, relieved when Jason moved forward toward Elizabeth only to be restrained by Robert. At least she had a chance with the brain-damaged one. "Elizabeth, you don't want to do this."

"You might be wrong there," Robert murmured, elbowing his way in front of Jason in order to keep the young man away from the scorned Queen and the young woman. "After all, what do any of us have to lose?"

"Quite a lot, I'm afraid." Helena's calculating eyes glittered in the moonlight as she lifted her chin slightly, staring directly into the younger woman's sapphire orbs. "Elizabeth, I must urge you to think carefully, unlike these rash, trigger-happy men you've chosen to surround yourself with."

A muscle in Jason's jaw ticked as he exchanged discreet worried glances with Luke, wondering inwardly if Elizabeth would actually shoot the old hag. He had given her a gun before and she had refused it; she had carried one while with Robert but only out of dire necessity. There were five other men present, all with loaded guns, and he knew that Elizabeth realized she didn't have to pull the trigger.

But the young woman kept her weapon pointed steadily at Helena's heart. The old woman backed up a tremulous step, once again giving herself away by glancing at Luke. 

"Think about this." Her voice was quiet in the stillness of the night. "You don't want to kill me. If you do, you're sentencing an entire town to death."

The young woman blinked and Helena took a breath, knowing her advantage and seizing it. "Think about it – all those people across the harbor right now, fighting for their lives. Their struggle will surely have been in vain if you pull that trigger. Your grandmother – think about her. Nurse Audrey Hardy, meeting her end in the same hospital where she started out as a young woman, not unlike yourself."

Elizabeth swallowed roughly at the mention of her grandmother but held her ground nonetheless.

"And all of the lovely young women at Kelly's," Helena persisted, more confident now. The young woman's compassionate nature and warm heart was ironically her own greatest weakness. "So young, with such potential – all wasted. And little Michael – he's so very ill, isn't he?"

Her dark sapphire eyes flickered over to Jason's and the enforcer's heart constricted when he saw the emotion in Elizabeth's liquid eyes. 

"He won't last long, the dear little lamb. Poor Mr. Corinthos – his entire line is to be wiped out, for Caroline and her unborn child certainly won't make it through the night. She'll never be able to hold her own child in her arms. And, what of your own Mr. Morgan?"

Helena's eyes slid over to Jason, a sly smile making her lips twitch. "The dear boy – he's quite flushed, is he not? I noticed him stumble inside the cabin, you know – the man can hardly stand on his own. Who knows how long he has? He may be a tall, strapping, virile horse of a man, my dear, but the virus will take him down just like the smallest child."

The gun wavered slightly and Elizabeth wrapped both hands around the butt to keep it steady.

Helena's sinister smile bled into the darkness. "And what about you, my dear? You've been swimming in the harbor all night, it seems. Every pore on your body has had ample time to absorb the virus; it's taking over your blood stream with alarming speed as we speak."

The old woman shook her head, easing a step closer to the young woman. "You are sentencing the entire town to death, and for what? A Spencer? Ridiculous. A Spencer isn't worth a _drop_ of the antidote that I would release if I were in turn released."

She cleared her throat quietly, knowing that she was getting through to the little girl. "You follow in a rich tradition, Elizabeth. We've been doing this for years, Luke and I. The enemy is not meant to be disposed, only bested. And it seems I find myself now in that same position. Release me, Elizabeth, and I release the antidote."

Johnny watched in silent awe as a slow, knowing smile spread across the brunette's plush lips, her now dry eyes glittering dangerously. Elizabeth removed one hand from the perfectly steady gun and reached for her throat, slowly pulling down the silver zipper of her black thermo-insulated vest and slipping her fingers underneath to pluck something out of the breast pocket.

Her teeth glittered in the darkness as she pulled out a vial of pale green liquid, shaking it gently in front of the astonished matriarch's face. "You mean, _this_ antidote?"

Luke's pale topaz eyes gleamed with pride as both he and Robert turned toward the appalled Queen. "Darlin', I think she's speechless. Imagine that."

"No quick quips?" Robert teased, his eyes crinkling with laughter. "No pointed barbs? You've disappointed us terribly, Helena."

The old woman opened her mouth and then snapped it shut, having nothing to say. Try as she would, she couldn't quite remove her eyes from the small vial and regain her composure. "How – How did you get that?"

------------------------------------------

_"We need it done as soon as possible." Robert braced his hands on the edge of the cold metal desk, looking directly into his colleague's dark gray eyes. "Can you do it?"_

The man heaved a heavy sigh, studying the artifact that lay bottom-side up on a white handkerchief in front of him. "I've never done anything like this before."

"We know that."

The German's eyes flickered to the young brunette as he smirked to himself. "So…the Wildcard does speak."

The woman's eyes flashed and she reached out to flip the necklace over. A large ruby, as big as a man's closed fist, glittered wickedly in the dimly lit office and the German sucked in a deep breath, licking the front of his teeth.

"But Pegasus will make it worth your while," she assured him calmly. "Everything will be taken care of."

"Naturally, you do not expect me to provide a cultured ruby as massive as this one," he reasoned, putting his hands up to convey the tight spot they had him in. "Even a garnet is quite outlandish at this point, and by the deadline you have proposed. If I had more time…"

Robert shook his head immediately. "No good. The deadline is non-negotiable."

"Then so is my answer, I'm afraid."

"You haven't listened to our terms yet," the woman persisted, slipping her small hands back into her black trousers.

"Haven't I?"

"No." Her dark blue eyes darted to meet the agent's, then flickered back to his. "We're proposing an exact replica on the agreed upon date. All materials are to be the same…except for the ruby."

The German's chest rumbled with laughter. "And what am I supposed to use to make the gemstone, my dear? Glass?"

Robert chuckled, withdrawing as the brunette smirked and prepared to depart. "The materials will arrive in the morning."

He watched, stunned, as the two slipped out the door.

"You have until the agreed-upon date."

-------------------------------------------

"How did you get that?"

Elizabeth smiled softly, tilting her head to the side as she slipped the antidote into her back pocket and reached for her vest once more. She separated the top flaps of the black article and pulled the zipper all the way down, revealing what she wore underneath.

Helena's eyes widened as they came to rest on the young woman's throat. A massive red gemstone set in silver glittered back at her, the answer to all of her questions.

The brunette fingered the artificial necklace delicately, one hand still holding her weapon drawn as her dark eyes darted toward Jason's and held.

"Never underestimate the beauty or value of a piece of red glass."


	47. 47

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 47**

"Well, darlin', I think we've all had enough fun for one day." Luke's smile was wide and accommodating as he tucked his gun away and grabbed Helena's wrists, pulling her back toward the main cabin. "What say we get back inside and get a little cozy while the lovebirds suck face, huh? Hey, Robert, I bet she's got some primo scotch in there, my friend."

"Aces," the agent exclaimed, rubbing his hands together before motioning to the guards. "John, Max – what do you say? You've earned it."

The guards exchanged pleased glances and shuffled in first, ready to take a break, catch their breath, and get back to their own boat that was currently floating nearby.

Elizabeth grinned as Luke winked at her and pushed Helena away, and the brunette quickly tucked her gun into her back pocket as she sought out Jason. The enforcer met her gaze immediately, his cerulean eyes twinkling as he clicked the safety latch on and put his weapon away as well.

Johnny glanced over his shoulder with a lascivious smirk when he heard Elizabeth squeal and even in the dim light, he could see her race across the deck and jump into Jason's outstretched arms, wrapping her slender legs around his trim waist as he held her close.

The enforcer laughed as she peppered his face and neck with kisses, one hand tangled in her thick, damp locks as he used the other to support her weight. Eyes closed, he buried his nose in her wet hair and breathed deeply, not caring that she smelled of salt water and dead fish.

Elizabeth sighed happily and trailed her hands possessively over his broad shoulders, but her peaceful murmur was abruptly cut short when her fingers found the frayed edges of the tear in his black wetsuit.

"Jason…" Her lips parted on a soft gasp, her dark eyes serious and worried now as she drew her fingertips away, staring down at the sticky redness. "You're hurt."

But the enforcer shook his head, shifting her in his arms. "I'm fine. I just need a wrap for it, that's all," he added when she opened her mouth to protest. "It's nothing – can't even feel it."

She seemed to accept that and nodded, pressing a kiss to his forehead as he gently lowered her to the floor. "What about you?" His inquiring cerulean orbs bore into hers as he cupped her neck gently, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Are you okay?"

Elizabeth nodded immediately, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah – I'm fine."

"But Robert said – the bullets and the assassins and-"

"Jason." She cupped his face gently, her eyes shining now as she searched his. "I'm fine, really. I'm here, aren't I? And I promise, I'll tell you everything in detail once we get back home."

That surprised him and the enforcer quirked a brow hopefully at her. "Home?"

"Well, yeah," Elizabeth shrugged, tossing her wet hair over her shoulder. "You don't plan on taking up that whole humongous penthouse on your own, do you?"

Jason laughed at that, closing his eyes when he felt her forehead touch his. "No – I don't."

It was all he needed to say and the mobster pulled her into his arms once more, overwhelmingly relieved that he actually could now. She was here and she was safe – and that was the only thing he'd needed to know all this time. 

Her eyes gleamed in the silver moonlight as he pulled away, holding her chin between his thumb and index and tilting it up so that she was closer to him. His warm breath fluttered over her plush lips, making her shiver, and Elizabeth let her eyes drift shut the moment she felt his mouth brush against hers.

Jason eased closer, wrapping an arm securely around her waist to anchor her against him, and was mildly surprised to feel her smile under his mouth. The realization made him chuckle and Elizabeth laughed back gently.

"I can't believe it's over," she sighed happily, her fingers playing with the soft golden hair at the nape of his neck. "Well, almost over. I-I almost can't believe that you're here, with me, again."

He didn't reply; there was no need when she knew he felt the same. Instead, Jason leaned down and captured her lips with him, this time leaving no room for anything else. She responded instantly, her fingers fanning out over the flushed skin of his neck as he pulled her against him. His mouth moved insistently over hers, probing her, tasting her, cherishing her.

Tears pricked her eyes but she forced them back. Now was not the time to cry – not when they were so close, not when they were so happy. Her tears would cheapen the moment for her and she refused to indulge in them. Instead, Elizabeth pushed herself up on her toes and kissed him back fiercely, her fingers tightly gripping the clingy fabric of his wetsuit.

Heat radiated through his body and into hers, the hard planes and muscles rippling under her gentle touch. The waves lapped roughly against the yacht as Jason rocked her gently in his arms, relishing the feel of her small, soft body pressed against his in all the right places. This time, nothing in the world would prevent him from fighting for her if he had to. Not when they both had fought through so much to finally be together again.

Inside the main cabin, Robert handcuffed Helena to another lushly upholstered Victorian chair. He had a hunch it wouldn't hold her, but they'd just have to be extra careful. Max handcuffed her feet as Johnny spoke into Luke's transmitter, exchanging information with Lucky and Sonny back on the mainland. 

"They hit a small snag." Luke and Robert looked up at the Irishman's tense voice. "But they're handling it."

"What happened?"

"The guards outside found Lucky," Johnny replied, running a hand through his dark spikes as he tossed the transmitter back to Luke. "They took care of 'em – downed all four."

The oldest Spencer cursed, shaking his head. "What's the damage?"

"So far?" The guard absently glanced at his watch, counting down in his head. "Nothing. The guards check in with the men downstairs every thirty minutes, so they have to do it before then."

Luke let out a sigh of relief at the news. "Okay, good, that's nothing to worry about. They'll be done in no time, which is right on schedule as far as we're concerned. Lucky already has the gas, right?"

Johnny nodded instantly. "Yeah, he brought it back to Harborview with him after we planted the devices."

"Wonderful," Robert nodded, leaning against the back of Helena's chair as the Cassidine Queen glared darkly at all of them. He glanced over as Jason and Elizabeth finally stepped into the main cabin, each smiling softly and so twined with the other that they stumbled along the way.

The agent chuckled, looking over at Luke who was rolling his eyes, but pleased nonetheless. Elizabeth blushed slightly, still starry-eyed from their declarations of love, and the brunette knew that there was no way Robert would let her and Jason get away with this.

As usual, the detective didn't disappoint. "Well, it's about time you two showed up," he groused, tossing her a cheeky wink before he slapped his friend's arm. "I feel like I'm in a shmoopy after-school special all of a sudden – what about you?"

"I'm expecting stars to sprinkle from her fingertips and rainbows to come shooting out his ass," Luke muttered, still searching around for something stiff to drink and finding nothing. "Isn't love disgusting?"

"Oh, the absolute worst," Robert agreed good-naturedly. "Poor schlubs – should we warn them?"

The other man chuckled as he watched Elizabeth wrap her arms loosely around Jason's waist before shooting him a pointed glare. "Nah, let them figure it out for themselves. Now, as for you, darlin'," he added, pointing at Elizabeth with both hands, "get over here."

She grinned and slipped away from Jason, covering the distance between them and wrapped her arms around Luke's neck as he swung her up in to the air. The old man laughed and stroked her dark hair before he set her down.

"It's doing me all kinds of good to see you, safe and sound, angel," he smiled, brushing her damp bangs out of her forehead. "You still got all your body parts, right? And no new tattoos or piercings I should know about?"

Elizabeth laughed and shook her head before throwing her arms around the old man's stomach and hugging him once more. Robert smiled to himself as he watched Luke swing her hard, but sobered the moment he spotted his black satchel on the desk.

"Easy does it," he warned, immediately snatching it up and pulling out a black pouch. "We're not out of the water yet. First things first – everyone get over here and get inoculated. Elizabeth, the antidote, if you will."

The brunette smirked triumphantly at Helena and handed the vial over to the agent with a flourish. Robert drew out a syringe and a few needles and passed them around, measuring out the correct dosage for Jason, Luke and the guards. 

"That oughta do it," he nodded, disposing of the equipment. "You already know that we met with Agent Jones at Wyndemere. He's at an undercover WSB lab set up right across the harbor where they're doing their best to create more of the antidote – enough for the entire town. As soon as the first shipment's ready, we'll be bringing it back to General Hospital. It won't be long, now."

Jason heaved a sigh of relief, absently rubbing the spot where he'd injected himself. It was almost over – as soon as Sonny and Lucky completed their part, the town would be safe from Alcazar, Helena, and the deadly virus. His grandmother wouldn't have to leave her husband; Carly and Sonny would be able to hold their first child together; and he and Elizabeth would be able to continue rebuilding what they themselves came so very close to losing.

She appeared at his side just then, as if knowing what thoughts were racing through his mind. Jason reached out for her the moment her small hand found his back, and he held her close without a word as Robert and Luke continued to discuss business.

Elizabeth laughed quietly, prompting a questioning look from Jason, and she shook her head. "Sorry. I was just…thinking."

"About?"

"About how much Lucky and Robbie hate you," she smirked, her dark eyes glittering. "About…about how none of us belong in this."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, look at us," she shrugged, her sapphire orbs traveling around the yacht and coming to rest first on Luke and Robert as they argued about which one of Helena's evil plans had been the most fun to thwart.

"You and Sonny, me and Lucky, Luke and Robbie…none of us belong here." Elizabeth tilted her head to the side, smiling softly. "But here we are, you know? I was supposed to be moping around at the Brownstone; you and Sonny were supposed to be working. Luke and Lucky were supposed to be managing their club and trying to pull off some high-paying scheme and Robbie…well, Robbie was supposed to be dead."

Jason chuckled at that, his large hand slowly moving up and down her small back

"And here we are," she continued slowly, "all standing around on a yacht in the middle of the night with the one antidote that can save the rest of the town. And I just…it's so funny, how we got here."

He smiled and bent his head down, pressing his lips gently to where her forehead met her hairline. Elizabeth closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his back, resting her slight frame against his stronger, sturdier one as the yacht rocked back and forth on the waves.

"Well." Helena's hard eyes conveyed little but disdain as she surveyed her unwanted guests. "Isn't this…pleasant?"

Luke rested a hand on a nearby Victorian couch, glancing warily at Robert who also turned around. "Trying to sweet-talk us, Helena? Charming, but no."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Luke," she sighed, "and frankly, I'm growing a little weary of always being accused of something whenever I make the most innocuous comment."

Her eyes traveled around the room once more, coming to rest on Jason and Elizabeth who stood close to the door leading out on deck. "I really do mean that, sincerely. This is so very pleasant. Why, our dear Robert Scorpio, he's not dead after all, and I suppose that for some of us, that is quite well and good. You two – yes, in the suits – you did quite well for yourselves, didn't you? Two meaningless peons in the Corinthos organization rose to the ranks of heroes overnight. And Mister Morgan and Elizabeth seem to be doing quite well, judging by the indecent way they're draped all over each other at the moment."

The old woman pursed her lips together, her hard eyes glittering like gemstones. "Yes, this all very pleasant. You've all done very well, and I congratulate you for that. This was all lovely, but I'm afraid I don't have any more time to waste with you all."

"I do commend you, however, on your teamwork." Her words dripped with contempt but her demeanor was nevertheless coldly pleasant. "It's so refreshing to see: outlaws and policemen, former lovers and current lovers, fathers and sons. Just remember…it can't last. Nothing in this world is made to last. Before long, it all returns to its original state, and then there is nothing."

"It's been fun, Luke," she continued as the old man exchanged wary glances with Robert, "but it's time for me to go."

Robert stepped forward, one hand already reaching behind him for his gun when Helena stood abruptly and then a billowing pink cloud immediately swallowed the room, sending the occupants into a coughing fit.

Luke waved the smoke away frantically as Jason and Johnny kicked the doors to the deck open again, trying to force the pink haze out into the dark night. Elizabeth wheezed and felt a rush of air pass her, and she only opened her stinging eyes when the room finally began to clear out.

"Luke-"

The older Spencer's pale topaz eyes were trained on the Victorian armchair, his mouth partly agape. Two pairs of handcuffs sat on the floor by the leg, glittering wickedly in the dim light. Luke swallowed roughly, looked numbly around the room and then abruptly turned on his heel and took off down the deck after Helena.


	48. 48

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 48**

"We're too late."

Luke and Robert staggered back into the main cabin just as Jason and Elizabeth appeared from the other side of the deck with the guards in tow. The older Spencer pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.

"She's long gone, boys."

Johnny winced, edging a step away from the man. He waited about twenty seconds and when nothing happened, quirked a confused look at him. "…Don't take this the wrong way, but I thought you'd be just a little more upset about this."

Luke shrugged, wearily dragging a hand through his hair. "Live to fight another day, Irish. That's how it's always been."

"Welcome to the game," Robert nodded, sniggering to himself. "This isn't the end, boys – only the beginning. Every damn end is another damn beginning."

"There's nothing we can do about it now." Luke pulled the transmitter out of his pocket and switched it back and forth between his hands. "Right now, the most important thing is to see Sonny's plan through and to get the antidote from Frisco's lab to the hospital. Got it? Let's go."

"Max, you're the captain, I believe," the agent said, ushering the guard out onto the deck. "We'll be needing to get back to Port Charles immediately. And I imagine Jason needs to talk to Sonny."

The enforcer nodded uneasily, looking at his watch. They didn't have long now. "Max, Johnny, come with me. We have to move fast because we've only got eleven minutes left."

"Sure thing, Boss," the men echoed, disappearing out onto the deck as Elizabeth and Robert gathered up their equipment and packed it away in their satchel.

The brunette fiddled with the clasp of her necklace, trying to remove it, but found that it was stuck and soon gave up. Robert helped her load the rest of their belongings into the black pouch that she immediately tied around her waist, and then looked around for Luke.

"I don't feel right leaving yet," he told his old friend. "Not before I do a final sweep."

"Suit yourself," Luke shrugged, motioning toward the boat that Johnny and Max had already boarded. "I'm going to swing across and join the boys, see if Corinthos is on task or not. And I think Jason's waiting for you, darlin'."

Elizabeth nodded, spotting her boyfriend on deck as he tucked his weapon securely away and prepared to jump overboard. "Tell him I'm following him over, okay? I just need a minute."

Luke nodded and headed out to exchange a few words with Jason. The enforcer looked uneasily over his shoulder at the brunette who was currently talking to Robert, but he knew she'd be close behind. Unable to waste any more time, he quickly leapt overboard and swam the distance over to the next boat, hoisting himself up with Johnny's help. Max managed to bring the boat even closer to Helena's yacht as Luke waited on deck.

"Man overboard!" Robert and Elizabeth looked over just in time to see Luke lower himself from one deck to the other, and the agent zipped up his vest and prepared to head out.

"I'll see you on the other side, doll," she heard him call out as he headed onto the deck. "You be sure to get to General Hospital in time to intercept Frisco – knowing him, he won't want to be seen and – hello, what have we here?"

Blinking, Elizabeth let go of the railing and stepped back, waving to Johnny to let him know that she was fine but needed a little more time. "What, Robbie? You okay?"

He was crouched on the floor by the closet when she entered the smaller drawing room, and pushed himself to his feet when he heard her approach. "Looks like we've found our boy."

The brunette clamped a hand over her mouth when she saw Alcazar's corpse come crashing down onto the thick red carpet. "Oh, man…"

"Slit his throat," Robert nodded, wiping the dried blood off his fingertips. "A good, clean job. That's Helena for you."

"Do we leave him here?"

The agent nodded, pulling out his transistor and trying to contact Max. "Max – Max, come in. Luke over there? Yeah – we found Alcazar. He's dead. I said, he's dead. Let Sonny know. Yeah. That's fine."

He held the transistor to his chest, searching for her in the dim light. "Listen, the boys are running out of time. What say that we let them get on with it and me and you'll take this floating castle in? Let the police finish scouring it, eh?"

Elizabeth peered out the door at Sonny's boat that still floated nearby, nibbling her lip. She had wanted to board it with Jason – hell, she _should_ have boarded it with Jason – but there was nothing to be done about that now. "Yeah, that's fine."

"You get that, Max?" Robert smacked the side of the device when the signal failed to go through. "That's right – tell Morgan to keep his panties on and that we'll meet him on land. Yes, I know how to steer a boat. That's it, then."

He clicked it off and slipped it into his pocket, taking the young woman by the elbow. "Come on, let's head up to the wheel, see what we find along the way."

"I almost feel bad for Luis Alcazar," the young woman mused, trotting along after the detective. "I would if he hadn't tried to take the town by force and kill Sonny's family. I mean, the guy had no idea what he was getting himself into."

"Yes, and he had no one to blame for that but himself," Robert corrected, wagging a finger at her. "The most important thing to do – before anything else – is your homework. If he had bothered to learn anything worth knowing about Helena, he'd have figured out that if he so much as looked at her cross-eyed after she got what she needed from him, he'd be fish food."

"I'm glad he's gone," she bristled as they approached the small captain's office. "Miserable son of a bitch. You know, it's funny, he's nothing at all like his bro-"

"Aha," Robert interrupted, tugging the door open and immediately striding up to the wheel. "Here we go. Let's see if I can't make contact with Luke." He pulled the ship's transistor out and fiddled with it as Elizabeth looked around the office. "Max – Max, am I coming through? Yes, we're at the wheel. Okay, okay. Good. Five minutes? Perfect. We're as good as golden."

--------------------------------

Jason stood uneasily on deck, his hands gripping the ice-cold railing as he stared at Helena's yacht. His stomach was in knots, and though he was tempted to attribute it to the virus or the rocking of the boat on the waves, he knew it was something else. It was because she was once again not with him, and even though he knew Robert was with her, it still made him uneasy.

He barely heard Luke walk over across deck until the older man was at his side, clapping him solidly on the back.

"Well, Morgan." His eyes fell on the white yacht as well. "Congratulations on the completion of your first bona-fide Spencer-style adventure. You did good. We begin recruiting for the next one in about a week, so make sure your paperwork's in order."

Jason snorted derisively and would have replied had the boat not lurched violently all of a sudden, nearly throwing him and Luke off their feet. The older man pulled himself up as the mobster swung around, searching out Max and Johnny at the wheel.

"What the hell was that?"

"Boss – it's Robert and Elizabeth," Johnny called out, his voice tight and drawn as Max tried to control the wheel. "We have to go back for them!"

"What?" Luke didn't like the sound of that at all. "Why? Scorpio can handle himself-"

"There's a bomb aboard."

Jason could have sworn that his heart skipped two beats. His wide eyes connected with Johnny's grim green ones as he gripped the railing even harder. "What?"

"Max just got a message from Robert," the Irishman explained carefully. "There's a bomb planted on the yacht, and it's ticking down. We have to swing back for them-"

Jason didn't hear the rest because that was when he took off, heading straight for the far end of the deck so that he could see the yacht better. His turbulent cerulean eyes scanned the boat, trying to find any flash of movement against the inky black night sky, but seeing nothing.

Johnny took the transistor from his best friend and raced over to Jason with Luke on his heels, all three of them squinting into the darkness as Max tried to get the boat close enough for Robert and Elizabeth to make an emergency boarding.

"Boss-"

Jason grabbed the transistor quickly and lifted it to his lips, still searching for any signs of the pair. "Robert – Robert!"

_"-breaking – captain's office – two minutes –"_

He slammed his palm against the side of the device, shaking it furiously to get a better signal. "Robert!"

Luke seized the moment and snatched the transistor from Jason's hand, knowing that the enforcer was too terrified to do it right. "Robert – Robert, come in! What's it look like?"

_"-two minutes – she blows – tell Max not to – closer."_

"I can't read you." Cursing, Luke gripped the railing and leaned half over it, trying to make out his best friend and the young woman. "We'll be alongside as soon as we-"

_"No! Don't do it!"_

Jason actually ripped the small transmitter out of Luke's hands. "Elizabeth?"

_"Max, don't come any closer! It'll take us both down! Don't do it!"_

The enforcer stared at the device as static took over, and it took everything in him not to fling the worthless plastic into the contaminated harbor. His eyes hungrily scoured the deck of the yacht as Max lingered, unsure of whether to draw closer or follow Robert's directions.

"I can't see a damn thing," Johnny cursed, squinting into the darkness. "Where the hell are they?"

"Boss, I got no choice." Max's tight, regretful voice barely managed to break through the dull roar between Jason's ears and the boat lurched again to the side as the guard steered them what he deemed a safe distance away.

His throat burned as Jason stared at the yacht, silently willing Elizabeth into sight and not realizing that he was chanting it under his breath like a reverent prayer. This couldn't be happening, not after everything that they had been through.

"They'll make it," Luke murmured, as if reading his mind. Together, the two men gripped the railing and stared vigilantly at the yacht. "Just wait for it…wait for it…"

Jason clenched his eyes shut and tried to drown out Luke's voice. But when he opened his eyes again, only darkness awaited him. He could only barely make out the yacht on the black waves, and his stomach turned the farther they drew from the others.

"I can't see them," Johnny repeated, one hand clamped over his watch so that he couldn't see the face. "I just can't…"

"There!"

Luke raised his finger at the exact moment that a small explosion ripped across the far end of the yacht. Another followed in rapid succession, and then another. Against the backdrop of brilliant orange and red raced two silhouettes, dodging embers and moving swiftly as the explosions cut through the boat.

They raced to the stern as Johnny let out a yell, alerting Max to the developments. Jason backed away from the rail, his hands clenched so tightly that his clipped nails bit into his palm and drew blood. Luke was right next to him, yelling and whooping about something as Robert and Elizabeth raced toward the head of the boat, narrowly managing to dodge the successive explosions.

A final blast ripped through the destroyed yacht as the cabin went up in flames, and Jason couldn't breathe as Robert and Elizabeth leapt to the top rail and hurtled themselves into the water, hitting the icy waves as the yacht finally blew.

The flaming wreckage splattered onto the black waves as Max swung the boat around toward the sinking yacht once more. Jason and Luke frantically searched the waves for the pair but the darkness was already closing in.

Then on the waterfront, Sonny and Lucky came through. Warehouse 52 spontaneously burst into flames, setting off a chain of explosions all along the docks. The night sky found itself beaten back by the intensity of the flames and embers as the waterfront burned, igniting the skyline. The hellish glow enabled them to see clearly among the wreckage, and Johnny was the first to spot the pair amidst the choppy waves.

He yelled out to Max who guided the boat over carefully as Robert and Elizabeth swam over, fighting against the waves and doing their best to escape the pull of the sinking wreck.

Luke, Jason and Johnny were all on hand as the pair swam up alongside the ship, and they quickly hauled the agent and the young woman aboard. Elizabeth was doubled over on deck, coughing out the water that had seeped into her lungs as Jason rubbed her back and talked to her in a low, soothing tone; Johnny helped hoist the detective up but was abruptly pushed aside as Robert set his sights on Luke, dealing the old man a swift blow to the stomach.

"You worthless toilet-flush!"

The oldest Spencer hissed and grabbed the railing to stay on his feet, glaring daggers at his best friend. "What the hell was that for?"

Robert swept his wet hair out of his face and gestured wildly toward the burning yacht, illuminated from behind by the burning waterfront. "Next time I try to get on a boat, Luke, do me a favor and kick the living spaghetti sauce out of me!"

"Fair enough," the old man wheezed, clasping his lifelong friend's shoulder roughly and giving him a relieved shake. "You never have good luck with 'em, anyway."


	49. 49

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 49**

"Lucky! Luke!" Bobbie's emerald eyes were alight with hope as the two Spencer men stepped off the elevator onto the fourth floor of General Hospital. A small mob was huddled near the nurse's station and would surely have jumped on the men had two WSB undercover agents not physically barred the path.

"What happened? Luke, you're hurt!"

"I'm fine, Barbara Jean," he assured her, holding up his hand as he and Lucky pushed past the agents to the people. "Everyone's going to be fine."

The crowd murmured, unsure of what Luke was saying. Very little news got into the hospital; they had only just heard about the warehouse fires and the complete destruction of Helena's yacht and now waited anxiously for news of their fate.

Sensing their confusion, Lucky hastened to explain. "We have the antidote. It's being cultured and replicated and is on its way to the hospital right now with a special police escort. Everyone will be inoculated – everybody's gonna make it."

--------------------------------------

Bobbie and Alan paced the corridor by the nurse's station, unable to help themselves. Luke and Lucky lingered nearby, addressing a small crowd that hung onto their every word as the Spencer men related the details of the adventure.

The antidote had been recovered from Wyndemere and the strike that followed was so swift that even if Helena's intelligence provided reports of the break-in, little could be done. Though the Queen had escaped unharmed, her grip on Port Charles was no longer a problem. She had disposed of Alcazar herself, saving them the trouble. That still left the problem of his men, however, who controlled most of the town including Harborview Towers.

Lucky stood in the corner by the elevators, the small mob gathered around him and his father, and smirked discreetly in Sonny's direction as the mob boss quietly joined the group having just checked on his wife and child. They had been discovered in the penthouse by Alcazar's men and had no choice but to open fire, leaving them with half an hour to complete their plan so that the others would be none the wiser. In exactly half an hour, the elevators in the main lobby of Harborview had swung open and the henchmen gathered there only had a few seconds to glimpse the four corpses of their colleagues before a deadly tear gas filled the lobby, issuing from a capsule strapped to each dead man's chest. The Towers were secured.

Sonny had then destroyed all the waterfront property that Alcazar's men used to control the organization, all with the push of a button. The bombs that Jason, Lucky and the guards had planted on their night run detonated, leaving the waterfront property in shambles. There was nothing left for Alcazar's men to control anymore; there was no reason for them to stay – those few that hadn't been killed by the blasts, at any rate.

The crowd broke out of its entranced spell only upon the sound of the elevator bell, and Alan looked up expectantly to see his son and two vaguely familiar bodyguards step out and fan out instantly, their weapons engaged at their sides as a precaution. 

Patrick Drake approached from down the corridor with Noah in tow, and the two men frowned at the scene. "What the hell's going on?" the younger man wanted to know. "You allowed to have those in the hospital?"

"The main lobby's secure," Jason informed one of the special agents that had escorted Luke to the fourth floor. "We've got the emergency ambulance dock ready for the team – they're on their way."

"Good," the agent nodded as Patrick and Noah came to a halt next to Alan and Bobbie. "All that's left is to secure the path to the lab."

The man moved off and Jason approached his father and Luke's sister, nodding briskly. "We've got it – and there's enough of it. The first shipment was produced successfully and it's being safely transported to General Hospital."

"Who's bringing it?" Alan wanted to know. "And when will it arrive?"

Jason glanced at Luke who grinned and threw his hands up in the air, then turned back to his father. "Robert Scorpio and Elizabeth are on their way with the World Security Bureau task force. They'll be here in five minutes, tops."

The agent's name stunned both Bobbie and Alan into silence; Patrick, however, was another matter. "Elizabeth Webber, huh?" He grinned to himself, straightening his white lab coat. "How about that?"

"Webber," Noah repeated to himself. "Is she of any relation to Rick Webber?"

Jason nodded briskly, watching as another agent took off down the hall toward the lab. "Niece. Steve and Audrey Hardy's youngest granddaughter."

"And you know this Elizabeth?" the older man asked, turning to his smirking son. "How?"

Patrick shrugged. "Met her at the Brownstone when I first came to town a couple weeks ago. Real nice girl. Pretty short, but with these amazing blue eyes and lips that were just made to be wrapped around a-"

"_Patrick_," Noah warned, inadvertently saving his amused cad of a son from the beating of a lifetime as Jason growled and moved closer. He would have done some damage, too, had the elevator doors not opened at that exact moment to reveal Robert, Elizabeth, and a few WSB agents armed with small coolers in both hands.

"Agent Scorpio, World Security Bureau," Robert announced as the brunette at his side moved forward immediately with her load. "These need to be taken to the lab immediately and kept at a constant temperature of forty-five degrees Fahrenheit until they are administered."

Alan and Bobbie gaped at the ghost from the past, their amazement echoed by the excited murmurs from the crowd. After a moment, the doctors snapped back and quickly moved forward to assist. Elizabeth moved past the small crowd directly to where Patrick and Jason stood, and she handed her containers off to the young doctor as her boyfriend glowered at him in the background.

"Well, well, look at you, Webber," Patrick smirked, gratefully taking the coolers from her small hands. "Who'da thought a little kitten like you had it in you?"

"I knew it from the start," Robert feigned, coming up alongside the doctor with his own load in hand. He winked at Elizabeth and tipped his head at Patrick, motioning to the hallway where the WSB operatives were already stationed. "After you, Doctor."

Jason watched sourly as the younger Drake led Robert and the other agents off down the hallway, then turned to Elizabeth. "I'm going to go with them, make sure everything's okay."

She nodded immediately. "I'll check on Carly and Michael for you, okay?"

Reluctantly, he let go of her hand and began to back away, following Robert. "Could…could you check on my grandmother, too?"

A small smile tugged on her lips and Elizabeth nodded, slipping her hands into her back pockets as he turned. "I'll do that."

------------------------------------------------

"You're going to be _so_ mad at me," Elizabeth laughed, gently running her fingers through a lock of her grandmother's silky golden-silver hair. "And I promise, you get to yell at me later, okay? And hey, that's all the more incentive for you to wake up, Gram – you get to tell your granddaughter that she has no business running around dark alleys in Germany and sleeping in abandoned mansions in Paris and jumping off burning yachts. How's that sound?"

She smiled to herself as Audrey slept on. "Do you know what time it is, Gram? It's almost morning. Think about this – as soon as the sun rises in Port Charles, the antidote will have been administered to almost everyone who needs it. The second shipment just arrived – can you believe that? About sixty-five people have already been given the antidote and it looks like it's working."

Elizabeth slipped off the bed, trying not to jostle her grandmother. With a small sigh, she wrapped her hands around the older woman's and squeezed gently, preparing to depart and make her rounds. "When you wake up, Gram, you're going to be just fine. So do that for me, okay – wake up soon? Because I have so much to talk to you about."

She leaned down and pressed a kiss to Audrey's forehead. "And won't this be a great story for Mom, Dad, and Sarah? I swear, we'll be dining out on this for months. Years, maybe."

The brunette stood to her full height, her fingers slowly slipping out from her grandmother's. "I love you. I know I don't tell you that enough, but I do. I'm so glad you're my grandmother – and that you're not psycho, like the other kids' grandmothers."

She laughed to herself and opened the door, flipping the lights off again. "Wake up soon, Gram – it's gonna be a _great_ morning."

-----------------------------------

Elizabeth peeked in through a crack in the door, relieved to see that Carly and Michael were both fast asleep. Sonny was still out in the main lobby with Luke and Mac from the PCPD, answering half their questions about the burning skyline and skillfully dodging the other half.

She slipped into the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Dr. Meadows had just been in the room because there was an updated chart in the clipboard at the foot of Carly's bed. Michael mumbled something about canaries in his sleep, shifting slightly on the thin mattress.

The brunette let out a sigh and combed his red hair out of his forehead. He was still very warm, but looked much better than some of the others. Carly, too, was resting well. Her vitals were good and though Elizabeth didn't know the full of it, she knew there was reason to hope for the best.

She swallowed roughly and tweaked Michael's cheek before backing away, hoping to make a clean escape.

"You are the whitest white girl I've ever seen."

Elizabeth spun around on the heel of her black boots, her gaze immediately landing on Carly. The blonde cracked one eye open and studied the younger woman, the corner of her mouth twitching with weary amusement.

"What, you couldn't even make good use of two weeks in Mexico? I bet you glow in the dark."

She shrugged, batting her lashes cattily at the older woman as she pulled the door open a crack. "Huh, you know, I'm not sure about that. Why not ask Jason? I bet he could tell you what I look like in the dark."

Even in her weakened state, Carly's hands clenched into loose fists. "Milkmaid."

"Harpie."

"Wench."

The brunette laughed to herself, flashing the smirking blonde a smile. "Welcome back." She cleared her throat and slipped noiselessly out the door. "…Anti-Christ."

---------------------------------------

_"'I must admit, Mr. Gardiner,' the President said, 'that what you've just said is one of the most refreshing and optimistic statements I've heard in a very, very long time.'"_

Elizabeth's breath caught in her throat as she cracked open Edward and Lila's door only to hear her best friend's voice on the speakerphone. Lila remained in her wheelchair, holding her husband's hand as Emily continued to read to him long-distance from her boarding school in California.

_"He rose and stood erect, with his back to the fireplace. 'Many of us forget that nature and society are one! Yes, though we have tried to cut ourselves off from nature, we are still part of it. Like nature, our economic system remains, in the long run, stable and rational, and that's why we must not fear to be at its mercy.'"_

"What a lovely thought, is it not?" Lila smiled softly, gazing out the window now as the sky was slowly changing from deep navy to indigo. 

_"It makes me remember how we used to sit in your rose garden,"_ Emily sighed, and Elizabeth could hear the rustling of paper in the background. _"We used to drink iced tea and sneak Reginald away from Grandfather…I can't wait to sit there with you again, Grandmother."_

"I can't either, darling," the old woman smiled weakly. "I do so look forward to the day you come home to us again."

_"Is there any change? Is he doing any better?"_

"He's doing much better, dear." The old woman's soft eyes lingered on her husband's peaceful countenance. "And your voice is serving him quite well."

_"I wish I could be with him,"_ her granddaughter sighed. _"I wanted to catch the first flight home but Dad wouldn't let me."_

"We didn't want you to risk your health," Lila reminded her. "The virus contaminated the entire town; I'm afraid there was no escape, darling. Your brother and Luke Spencer did all they could, and we have them to thank for this."

_"That's Jason,"_ the young woman laughed, _"always saving the day, huh? We should get him a cape and a pair of plain black glasses."_

"Oh, I dare say, darling, I don't think he'd like that very- Oh! Elizabeth!"

_"Elizabeth?!"_

The brunette grinned at her best friend's squeal. "I'm sorry – I didn't mean to barge in-"

"Not at all," Lila smiled, overjoyed. "Darling, the entire hospital is abuzz about you. We all thought you had gone off to England!"

"Well, I did," she replied with a shrug, her shoulders shaking with laughter. "I went a couple places, actually. Hey, Em – how're you?"

_"Me?!"_ came the indignant squawk. _"Forget me – what about you? What's going on? Spill, Elizabeth!"_

"I will, I promise – but I just dropped in for a minute to check on you all," she informed her friend as her gaze connected with Lila's again. "Here's the Reader's Digest version: Luke and Lucky wanted to find out who killed Roy so they grabbed me and we all went down to Mexico, where we found out that Robert Scorpio was alive and working the case."

_"Robert?"_ Emily squeaked as Lila's lips parted on a gasp. _"You mean, like, Robin's dad? Oh, my gosh – does she know? Does anyone know?"_

"Well, the whole town knows now," Elizabeth chuckled. "See, Sonny and Jason followed us down to Mexico and…yeah, they were pretty shocked, too."

_"What was Jason doing down there?"_

"…Um, chasing after me?"

There was a stunned pause in the hospital room until Emily squealed again. _"Oh, my gosh, we have SO much to talk about! Elizabeth! You have to tell me everything!"_

"I will, I will," she promised, laughing as she stepped into the room. "I just wanted to come in for a sec and say that the second shipment of the antidote's here and everyone's making a good recovery."

Lila reached out for her small hand, clasping it between her own, and the petite brunette crouched down on the floor next to her wheelchair. "That is wonderful news, darling. I'm not sure what hand you had in all of this, but I feel as if I owe you a thank you."

Elizabeth smiled and impulsively pecked the old woman's cheek. "No one owes me anything," she assured her with a smile before rising to her feet. "I really gotta be going now – I still have to check on a few things and I'm pretty sure that if I stay here any longer, I'm gonna start crying. So I'll talk to you soon, Em. I love ya, hon."

_"Love you, too, Elizabeth. And you'd better call me!"_

"I will," she promised again, flashing Lila a smile before quickly ducking out of the hospital room.

-----------------------------------------

Elizabeth half-walked, half-trotted down the hallway to the nurse's station, her bright eyes darting vigilantly around the corridors as nurses and orderlies and agents rushed past her in all directions.

Bobbie Spencer, dressed in her scrubs with her dark red hair up in a bun, turned the corner in front of her and the two women collided abruptly, almost falling to the floor.

"Oh – I'm so sorry-"

"Elizabeth!"

The brunette's jaw dropped and she instantly threw her arms around the older woman's neck, holding her tightly. "Bobbie!"

"Oh, sweetheart," the nurse gasped, pulling back and squeezing the younger woman's shoulder. "I thought we'd never see you again! Carly said something about you and…Elizabeth, Robert Scorpio is _alive_!"

She couldn't help it – she burst out laughing. "I know!"

Bobbie laughed along, her hands now on her warm cheeks as she shook her head. "She said something to that effect and I had no idea what she was talking about. I thought she was delirious! All these years – I never would have imagined this. And you – what about you?"

Elizabeth's sapphire eyes glittered happily as she took the older nurse's arm and joined her on the way to the nurse's station. "What _about_ me?"

"Look at what you did," Bobbie exclaimed happily, gesturing to the nurses and agents that still lingered around the hub of the hospital. "Look at what all of you did – you and Lucky and Luke and Sonny and Jason and…"

"And Robert," she reminded her pointedly, seeking out Jason amidst the crowd.

"Yes, Robert," Bobbie agreed, letting out a deep breath. "It still feels so strange to say it…" She shook her head, still unable to believe any of the fantastic events over the last hour. "So, all this time, you were…"

"-Continent hopping with a renowned international spy," the brunette grinned cheekily. "I don't blame you – I can't believe it, either."

The older nurse laughed and gave her a tight, one-armed hug as they walked, placing a smacking kiss on her temple. "You did good, sweetheart. You all did good."

Elizabeth smiled back warmly as Bobbie ducked behind the counter with Monica and Alan, then resumed her search for Jason. She finally spotted him as the crowd began to clear, standing by the potted plant in the waiting room with his cell phone in hand. He had just flipped it shut and tucked it into his pocket again when their eyes met and held, and the relieved grin that immediately bloomed on her face mirrored Jason's exactly.

Alan and Monica looked up abruptly from their records as the young woman squealed and once again raced into their son's arms. The young man swept her up instantly and held her close before pulling back enough to crush his lips to her.

Bobbie chuckled to herself and ducked out of the station with Noah in tow, ready to check on the rest of her patients. Alan's dark brows furrowed and he rested an arm on the counter as he quirked a confused glance at his wife.

"I didn't know they were still together," he mused, watching with mild surprise as the young woman slipped her tongue into his son's mouth.

Monica shrugged, her pale blue eyes dancing as she watched the couple in a clinch. "Well, Alan, I just found out an hour ago that I didn't know anything about anything, so I'll chalk this up as one more very welcome little surprise."

Her husband laughed and followed her out of the nurse's station just as Robert Scorpio walked up with a couple of his agents in tow. The sighting of the renowned agent and town legend immediately sent murmurs through the main veins of the hospital and the townsfolk who were lingering nearby immediately drew closer to the hero.

Robert stopped in front of Alan, shaking the chief of staff's hand firmly. "Dr. Quartermaine, the last shipment of the antidote has just been secured in the laboratory. I believe you now have all you need."

"Thank you, Robert," Alan smiled, giving in to his impulses and clapping the other man on the back as Monica beamed. "We can't tell you what you just did for us."

"It wasn't a one-man effort," the agent replied simply, finding Elizabeth in the crowd and tossing her a wink. "I believe there was a woman in there somewhere, too…"

Jason grinned down at the brunette in his arms as the crowd murmured and whispered around them all. Robert let out a deep sigh and set his hands on his hips, looking around the massive area.

"It's amazing, though," he muttered, almost as if to himself although the entire gathering heard. "We've secured the antidote, transported it safely to the hospital, administered it to a fair percentage of the infected population, and I have yet to see the local authorities. Where _is_ the Police Commissioner of this god-forsaken town?"

"Right here." 

Robert didn't even see what was coming until it was too late and his little brother's clenched fist connected solidly with his jaw, sending him to the ground. He shook his head, trying to clear the starts from his vision, and rubbed his jaw as he squinted up at the new commissioner's dark outline

Mac's narrowed chestnut eyes flashed as the younger man glared down at him, and Robert frowned sourly. "Well, isn't this poetically just?" 

Elizabeth winced as the detective shook his head again and pushed himself up onto his feet, dusting off his jacket and finally facing his younger brother as the crowd began to whisper and hum. 

"Malcolm." His voice was low, strained, and for the first time Jason saw that the agent's pale blue eyes were laced with guilt as he finally braved a glance at his younger brother. "I…I don't even know what to say to you."

"How about, _thanks for raising my daughter, Mac_?"

The brunette bit her lip as Robert's shoulders slumped and the older man nodded once, his voice even softer than before. "Thanks for raising my daughter, Mac."

The commissioner shook his head, grumbling under his breath, and pushed roughly past his older brother to once again return to his daughter's room. The crowd parted immediately to let him through, and Robert took the moment to slip away as well.

Elizabeth's sympathetic blue eyes sought him out as the agent drew closer, and even Jason remained silent for the old man's sake. "You okay, Robbie?"

He touched his stinging jaw, looking down the corridor through which his brother had just disappeared. "…Yes, doll, I'm just fine. That's been a long time coming, I'm afraid. And he's absolutely right."

He heaved a gigantic sigh and appeared to shake it off for the moment, because when he turned back to her Robert's pale blue eyes were twinkling again. "And what about you two? You seem to be doing all right, from the looks of things."

The corners of Jason's mouth twitched but the enforcer said nothing. Elizabeth just chuckled and slipped out of his grasp, stepping up onto her toes to kiss the agent on the cheek. Robert tucked his chin into his chest and smiled to himself, loosely wrapping his arms around her small waist.

"I'm grateful to have gotten a chance to know you," he murmured, patting her back gently. "You are a remarkable young woman, Elizabeth – even if you _are_ for some reason attracted to this hood."

She pulled back enough to glare at him and the agent just smiled down at her. "You know, if you hadn't said that, I would have hated to remind you that Jason helped save your life."

The light in Robert's eyes dimmed and he frowned sourly down at the wisp of a girl. "I'm positive you'll make sure I never forget."

Elizabeth laughed and threw her arms around his shoulder again, and Robert couldn't help but chuckle as he swung her to the side. Jason crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the wall and looking back openly when the agent's gaze connected with his.

"All jokes aside, bang-up job, both of you," he added seriously as the few doctors and nurses at the nearby nurse's station looked over at them curiously, surprised by the affection the wizened agent showed for the young woman. "I never thought I'd say this, but it's been a pleasure. I couldn't have asked for a better team than the one I got."


	50. 50

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 50**

Ned Ashton leapt into motion the moment he saw Patrick Drake step out of a patient's room and chased the young doctor down through the hallways of General Hospital. "Doctor Drake!"

He turned around abruptly, mildly surprised to see the Quartermaine chasing him down. "Ned, right? What do you need?"

"I was-I was wondering how Brenda's doing," the older man replied, clearing his throat. "Brenda Barrett."

"Ah," Patrick nodded to himself. "Alcazar's girlfriend."

Ned bristled slightly at that. "She's not just Alcazar's girlfriend, you know."

The doctor nodded quickly, his voice instantly apologetic as he motioned for Ned to walk with him. "Of course not, I'm sorry. Can I ask you something, Ned? Who's Brenda, really, and how does she connect with all of this?"

"Brenda's an old family friend of the Quartermaines," he explained briefly. "She went to school with Robin Scorpio – Agent Scorpio's daughter – and Jason Morgan years ago. She was engaged to be married to Sonny Corinthos."

"Hm," Patrick muttered. "How'd that work out for her?"

"Not too well," Ned admitted as they turned into the next hallway. "She was married to Jasper Jacks – you probably don't know him – and we thought she died in a car crash years ago."

The doctor nodded, coming to a stop outside the room Brenda shared with another one of his patients. "Okay, so she's one of the town's golden girls, right?"

"I guess you could say that," Ned allowed. "So – how is she?"

"She's responding very well to the antidote." Patrick wrapped his hand around the doorknob but didn't turn it. "I have every reason to believe that she'll make a full recovery."

Ned searched the younger man's troubled brown eyes. "…But?"

"But…I ran some tests on the medications that she'd been taking before being brought in," he admitted. "She didn't need any of them – in fact, they were hell on her system."

Ned's dark brows furrowed. "But…Alcazar said she had a mental disorder – the same one as her mother. Weren't the pills to keep her stable?"

Patrick shook his head. "The pills were effectively sedatives and hallucinogenic agents – nothing else. I think, personally, that he used them to keep her docile and permissive and above all else, with him. She had no other use for them."

The older man covered his mouth with his hand, scarcely daring to breathe. "Doctor Drake, what are you saying?"

"There's absolutely nothing wrong with your friend," he replied simply, meeting Ned's gaze without flinching. "She'll experience withdrawals from the pills over the next few weeks, but there is absolutely nothing else wrong with her."

---------------------------------

He waited until Bobbie Spencer had passed by before coming out from behind the potted plant. Peering around the corner to make sure she wasn't coming back, the agent moved into full view and walked briskly down the corridor, making sure to keep the bill of his black hat pulled low over his eyes. Other agents moved past him, nodding as they recognized their own, but he kept moving swiftly.

After a few necessary detours to dodge any watchful eyes, he finally saw his destination. Room 317 was barely cracked open, and his piercing blue eyes darted around quickly to make sure the area was secure before he ventured any closer.

Maxie was sitting on the side of her sister's bed as he approached and pushed the door open just enough to see inside. Her long blonde hair had been pulled back into a French braid by her mother's clever fingers, and the girl was looking well.

Georgie on the other hand, was still unconscious but had been removed from the respirator when it became clear that her strength was slowly returning to her. He watched as Maxie crossed her legs and brushed her little sister's hair out of her face, her long fingers lingering there as if she couldn't pull her hand away.

"Hey, Mini," she sighed softly, using the nickname her younger sister had hated since they were little. "Can you hear me? No, probably not. But I'm here anyway, and I'm not leaving."

She swallowed past the lump in her throat and gently took her sister's hand, holding it up and playing with her painted fingers. "You'll never believe what's been going on since they got the antidote in. Mom and Mac are going crazy…because it turns out that our Uncle Robert is alive. Do you remember him? I don't. But he's probably pretty cool because he's the one that beat Helena Cassidine and stole the antidote from Wyndemere."

The girl chuckled to herself, settling down more comfortably on Georgie's bed. "Well, I guess that's not the whole story. He was working with – get this – Luke Spencer, Lucky, Elizabeth, and even Sonny and Jason. Can you believe that? Mom said that under normal circumstances, Uncle Robert would be trying to put those two behind bars. But they all worked together to save us."

"You have to wake up soon, okay, Mini?" Maxie's somber blue eyes lingered on her sister's pale face. "It's…it's amazing right now. The whole town is coming together, and everyone's getting better. And you have to wake up so that we can meet Uncle Robert together. Mac's really pissed at him, though, which makes sense because he was supposed to be dead. But I don't think it'll last too long – I mean, there are so many people I know who are dead, and I'd be really happy if I found out that they were alive again, you know?"

She shook her head, tucking a wisp of golden hair behind her ear. "Anyway, it's amazing. I can't wait to find Elizabeth and Lucky – they _have_ to tell us what happened and how they did it. Think about it, Mini – they're only a couple years older than us, and they're running around the world, taking on Helena and everything! And hey, _we're_ the ones with the blood of a super-spy in our veins, am I right?"

Maxie laughed to herself, still holding her sister's hand in her own. "You know, I think Mom's thinking that…that because Uncle Robert's back in Port Charles, that…that Dad might be, too. I think that's what she ran out to see."

The girl heaved a heavy sigh, blinking up at the tube light as she forced back unexpected tears. "I…Sometimes, I don't get it. Why does she hold out hope, you know? You need to wake up so that you can spout on about fairy tale love and I can call you naïve, okay? Until then…you're naïve, Mini. There – you hear that? _Naïve_."

She laughed to herself, shaking her head. "It's okay – I'm just teasing. I don't know if he's here or not, and you know what? I think it's better that way. I think we're better off not knowing if he's in…in…Mozambique or in the next room, you know? That way, we're not disappointed. And we can always have hope, you know? We can always pretend he's watching over us, like a guardian angel only not an angel because he's not dead. I mean, I don't think he's dead. Anyway, that's nice – to know that someone's watching over you."

Maxie was silent for a long moment, but then impulsively bent down and pressed a kiss to her sister's cheek. "And that's what I'm going to do for you from now on, Mini. I'm going to watch out for you. I know I haven't been the best sister for the last couple years, but I'm going to change that. I'm always going to be here for you if you need me, no matter if Mom or Dad are or not. You can always count on me, Georgie. I'll never leave you, just like I know you'll never leave me."

She tilted her head to the side, linking her fingers with Georgie's. "You know, sometimes I think that…that it's like we're all the other has, you know? I mean, Mom's great and Mac's as awesome as they get, but…but it's not a bad thought. It's just us two sometimes, Mini, and that's not a bad way to go."

Maxie nodded to herself, her chin tucked into her chest. "Now wake up so that I can be nice to you, you loser."

The agent chuckled silently at that and stepped away from the door, letting it gently fall back into place. With a heavy sigh, he straightened the bill of his cap and turned on his heel to depart. And that was when he saw her.

She stood on the other end of the hall, her shoulder resting against the storage closet. She was just as he remembered her, too – tall, fit, and breathtakingly beautiful. Those cornflower blue eyes he loved so dearly twinkled as her thin lips curled into a wistful and bittersweet but accepting smile.

Frisco sucked in a deep breath, his hands still on his cap. Slowly, hesitantly, he grasped the bill again and pulled it off, letting his dusty blonde hair fall into his eyes as he lowered the cap to his chest.

Tears pricked Felicia's eyes, but her smile only grew. She pressed her lips together, blinking rapidly as he straightened his shoulders and met her gaze directly. He was just as she would always remember him – tall, broad-shouldered, looking every bit the daring renegade in his black cargo pants and sweater. 

Frisco nodded once, his bright eyes taking her in one last time before he grasped his hat firmly and tugged it back on. She pushed away from the heavy metal door with her shoulder, standing tall and firm with a small smile on her lips as he turned on his heel and disappeared down the hallway amidst the other nameless, faceless agents, forever her hero.

-----------------------------------

Michael and Carly's beds had been pushed together by the time Elizabeth returned to their rooms. This time, Jason was sitting on the edge of the bed with the little boy in between him and his old friend, and Michael's eyes were finally open.

He was still weak but the reports were promising and the little boy would make a full recovery. His bright blue eyes darted happily between his mother and his beloved uncle as Carly smoothed her fingers through his hair and called him 'Little Man' over and over again in conversation.

"Mom says that Mr. Robert did the same thing Daddy did," he spoke up in a soft voice as Elizabeth continued to peer in through a crack in the door, not wanting to impose but at the same time wanting to see with her own eyes that the child was going to be fine. "She says he pretended to be dead, too, like Daddy pretended to be when he wanted to keep us safe. Who was Mr. Robert trying to keep safe?"

Jason tugged at his ear, exchanging glances with Carly. "You know, Buddy, I'm not really sure. He was trying to keep his daughter safe, maybe." It was a stretch and he wasn't comfortable expanding on that. "And, hey, you know what? For the past few weeks, he's been trying to keep Elizabeth safe."

Michael's eyes lit up at the mention of the waitress that always gave him an extra brownie. "Yeah, I know. They went all over the world!"

"Not _all_ over the world," Carly corrected, playing with the ends of his hair. "Just Europe. Let's see, they went to England and…Paris…and…"

"Germany," Jason picked up. "They went to a tiny place on the map called Luxembourg, and then they went to Spain and then they came back."

"They must be tired," the little boy mused.

His mother laughed, her hazel eyes twinkling as she looked at her best friend. "I hate to tell you this, Mr. Man, but _everyone_ in town's pretty tired."

"Like Gramma," Michael announced, shifting as he lay flat on his back. "She's really tired, and so is Dr. Noah and Dr. Patrick. I don't think I like Dr. Patrick – he gave me three shots, but he didn't give me one lollipop."

"I don't think I like Dr. Patrick, either," Jason muttered, smirking when Carly swatted his arm.

"Well, Dr. Patrick's a hero," she informed her son and her best friend. "Just like Dr. Noah and the Quartermaines and your Gramma. They keep working to help people no matter how sick or tired they are, and that makes them our heroes."

"And Daddy and Uncle Luke and Lucky, too," Michael added, counting off on his fingers and not noticing the liquid emotion that welled up in his mother's eyes. "So's Lizabeth. And Uncle Jason, you're a hero, too!" He laughed weakly as the enforcer affectionately tousled his hair. "I knew you'd save us. I knew you'd find a way."

"I'd never let you down, Buddy," Jason replied softly, gathering the little boy up in his arms. "You don't have to worry about that, okay? I'll always be there for the people I love, and guess what?"

"What?"

"You're one of them."

The boy giggled to himself, casting a sly look in his uncle's direction. "Is Lizabeth one of them, too?"

Jason smirked at Carly when she squawked, gently elbowing her son. "Yeah, she is."

"I already knew that," the boy replied proudly, laughing when his mother began to tickle him. "I saw you two making out in the hall. It was so gross! Do you actually _like_ that? Are you gonna do it _all_ the time?"

"No, he's not," Carly interjected, glaring at her best friend as he tried not to laugh at her. "We'll put a muzzle on him if we have to, okay, Mr. Man?"

Outside the room, the brunette in question laughed quietly to herself and gently shut the door. Her shoulders were still shaking as she turned, preparing to head off down the hallway, and she had to quickly step back to avoid colliding with a smirking mobster standing not a foot away from her.

Sonny's dark eyes were twinkling with amusement as he held out a Styrofoam cup filled with thick brown liquid. "Here, have some. It's not as good as Kelly's, but it'll get the job done."

"Thanks," she accepted, taking the cup from him and placing one hand on the door handle. "You know, I think I'll take this in to Jason. He probably needs-"

"Jason won't touch it," Sonny replied with a smirk. "He'll call it disgusting swill and pour it down the drain without taking a sip. Besides…I dumped in five packets of sugar, so you're the only one with the tolerance to drink it."

Elizabeth laughed out loud at that, surprised that the mobster remembered the obscene amounts of sugar she poured into her morning jolt. "You make a good point – this stuff isn't safe with anyone else."

"Well, if you had refused, I would have had to call the toxic waste management team," Sonny grinned, playing along. "They're still trying to prepare themselves for your birthday next month."

The brunette stopped at that, her mouth falling open as his words registered. "Wow, you're right – it's my birthday in two weeks."

Sonny's dark eyes studied her carefully as he sipped his own coffee, wincing at the horrible taste. "You forgot about it?"

"To be honest…yeah," she admitted, tapping her fingers on the cup as she stepped around him. "It's…it's kinda funny, but I don't remember thinking about anything these past few weeks except…"

"Except whatever was on fire in front of you," Sonny finished with a knowing smile. "Good thing me and Carly's wedding anniversary isn't in October, or I'd've never heard the end of it."

She smiled, watching as he sipped his coffee again, having temporarily blocked the ungodly taste from his memory and at once surprised at the recollection. "Hey…"

His dark eyes darted to hers and Sonny quirked a brow in question as she trailed off. "Yeah?"

"I was just thinking," Elizabeth smiled to herself, peeking up at him from under a curtain of dark bangs, "you're gonna have a _great_ story to tell your new son or daughter one day."

The mob lord grinned at that, treating her to a glimpse of his infamous dimples that had earned him more than one bed-warmer on a cold, lonely night. "Yeah…the story of a tiny little woman who took me through one of the most horrifying moments in my life and helped us all come out alive at the end."

She blushed immediately, not feeling at all worthy of his praise. "It wasn't me, Sonny, and you know that. It was just as much you and Jason, and Lucky and Luke, as it was me and Robbie. No one could have done it without the others."

"I know that," he replied quietly, swallowing to rid his mouth of the acrid taste. "But it all started when you went off to Mexico and I found out just how badly I had hurt your feelings."

Elizabeth blushed again, attempting to dismiss his remark with a wave of her hand. "You know, it's really not that important anymore. I-"

"I hurt your feelings," he repeated seriously, his dark eyes boring into hers. "And that matters to _me_. And I hurt your feelings again by following you down to Mexico like you were a child and ordering you back home. And for that, I'm sorry. You're definitely not a child. I know first-hand that you're a smart young woman who's capable of making her own informed decisions – I've seen you do it over and over again."

She tucked her chin into her chest, nodding awkwardly, and Sonny continued. "Even though you were angry with me and Jason – and Johnny and Max, too – that didn't stop you from being kind to us, and that's one of the things I've always liked best about you, Elizabeth. You're a kind, open person and you put up with people even when they don't deserve it."

"You deserve it," the brunette replied quietly, her bright sapphire eyes meeting his solidly without shying away. "You're my friend, and it goes both ways."

-----------------------------------------

"Well, gang?" Luke Spencer rubbed his hands together, a gleeful grin on his face as his ragtag group of misfits wearily assembled around him by the nurse's station in the hub of the hospital. "How're we holding up?"

"I fell asleep in the Pediatrics wing with my eyes open," Lucky informed him blandly as Elizabeth yawned and leaned against Jason. "Some sticky-fingered kid stuck a crayon up my nose and it's all your fault if I'm still sneezing Robin's Egg Blue tomorrow."

"Duly noted," his father nodded as Robert cracked his knuckles. "The lesson here: never take your sinuses for granted. Elizabeth? You dropping out on us, doll?"

"Yes," she mumbled, pressing her face into Jason's shoulder as he helped keep her steady. After a grueling night's work – work that included scaling Wyndemere, cracking open a safe, escaping Wyndemere, boarding a yacht and then jumping off said yacht before it burst into smithereens – she and the others had spent hours running around the hospital and seeing to their family and friends. The sun was already high up in the sky and now that the commotion had died down, Elizabeth Webber was _tired_. And grouchy.

"Well, you think you can hold on for two more minutes?"

"No," she replied grumpily, turning her face away from the old man. "I don't like you anymore."

"Come on, doll," Robert chuckled, resting his elbow on the counter of the nurse's station that Johnny and Max were currently slumped against. "You've made it through the whole night – a minute more won't kill you, right?"

"I don't like you anymore either, Robbie."

"Frankly, I've never liked either one of you," Sonny remarked blandly, but his twinkling eyes gave him away the moment he looked at Luke.

"Damn, Corinthos," his former associate and friend sighed, shaking his head. "And here I had a friendship bracelet made for you and everything. I guess I'll give it to Claude as severance pay the next time I fire him."

"Dad, I swear, I'm _this_ close to giving that dumb kid my deluxe set of 128 crayons and turning him loose on your butt-"

"Okay, okay," Luke interjected, setting one hand on his son's shoulder and the other on Elizabeth's. "Obviously, we're all dead to the world right now. The doctors have everything under control here, so this is our cue to leave. Everyone go home, rest up, and then report to my bar in exactly twelve hours."

"_Luke's_?" Elizabeth frowned at the old man, alert now. "We're going to _Luke's_? I thought you closed that place up a while ago."

"I did," he replied easily, slipping his hands into his pockets. "But I still own it. And I've been thinking of getting it going for a while now and this seems like a good time. Besides, all the publicity and hype from this hero business will probably translate into customers and that's good for the bottom line."

Elizabeth groaned, slumping against Jason's shoulder again. "It's always about the bottom line, isn't it, Luke?"

Robert laughed and ran his hands through his thinning hair, rubbing away at the knots in his neck. "All right, gang, you heard him. Let's break for twelve and then meet up at the bar. It's tradition, you know," he added when he saw Max and Johnny exchange confused glances. "Back in the good old days-"

Jason groaned and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, prompting a dark scowl from the detective.

"Yes, Morgan," he replied witheringly, "back in _the good old days_, every time we solved a case at the agency, the whole gang would head to the bar exactly twelve hours later. When I got to know Luke and we worked together against Helena the first time, we did just that. So – tradition mandates that we meet again in twelve hours and get plastered together. Nothing encourages bonding like a death-defying adventure followed by a rousing game of fighting over toilets to vomit over."

Elizabeth nodded wearily as the guards shrugged their acceptance, and Robert turned to his best friend. "Listen, I need a place to stay tonight, at least. Know of any good digs around here?"

"You can stay with us at the bar," Lucky offered, scratching the back of his head. "We've got a couple spare rooms upstairs."

"Yeah, stay with us," his father nodded. "We'll push our cots together and drink scotch and braid each other's hair plugs."

"Fabulous," Robert drawled, surveying his motley crew as they prepared to break for the night. "All right, gang, take care, and we'll be seeing you. This battle's been a bottler. Bring a schooner tonight, and it's London to a brick that we'll rage on 'til morning."

"You really should stop mumbling, Robbie," Elizabeth called out sweetly as Jason pulled her over to the elevator with Johnny and Max in tow. "I can't understand a word you're saying."


	51. 51

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 51 (NC-17)**

"As long as I've known you…there has _always_ been a guard stationed outside this door."

Jason Morgan smiled wearily as he fished his keys out of the pocket of his damp black pants. The wetsuit still clung to him even after hours spent running around the hospital, and he was looking forward to donning something that wasn't cold and reeking of dead fish.

"Yeah, well…"

Elizabeth chuckled quietly to herself, the sound listless and humorless in the darkness. Of course there weren't any guards protecting Harborview Towers at the moment.

Alcazar's men, formerly stationed outside, had all been cleared out and the army of them that had taken up the entire town and held it under siege was now gone, along with the valuable property that they had made their popular hangouts. When Sonny pushed the button to detonate, he not only sent up his own warehouses and offices into flames but also his enemies: it was a fair trade, though costly as Luke had warned.

His own men had also been vastly diminished in number. When Alcazar took control, many of them turned to the other side to save their own lives. The loyal were systematically killed when they proved to be obstacles. The men left were spread out all over town and were already disposing of the multitude of corpses that littered the small town of Port Charles like charred gum wrappers.

And that was why the Towers stood alone in the slowly healing town. Elizabeth rubbed the knots at the back of her neck and shoulders as Jason slipped his key into the lock and kicked the door open when it stuck slightly. Heaving a sigh of relief, she shuffled inside as he held the door and just stood still in the center of the penthouse as the enforcer locked it behind them.

She had only moved out two days before rushing off to Mexico with Luke and Lucky, but her time spent in Penthouse 2 seemed more like two lifetimes ago. Everything seemed foreign for a moment, as if she had never lived there at all, but began to slowly come back as Jason moved around behind her, removing his gun from his waistband and securing it.

Wordlessly, she turned and pulled her own revolver out from the waistband of her black cargos. Jason blinked, unable to mask a quick flicker of surprise, but then took the weapon from her extended palm and put it away in the same box that he then locked and placed on the high shelf in the closet.

They didn't bother to turn on the lights; there was no need because the morning sun was streaming in through the balcony doors. Instead of lingering, Jason placed a large hand at the small of her back, gently guiding her toward the stairs. The brunette's steps were heavy as she plodded upstairs with him close behind.

She kicked off her shoes on the landing and was already pulling off her waterproof wristwatch. The black metal clinked as she set it down on the small wooden table that lined the hall – most likely something of Carly's varying decorating taste – and Jason's boots soon found themselves kicked underneath the same narrow table.

He was working on the snap of his pants while she pulled her hair back into a haphazard braid, and had already pulled his shirt out of his waistband by the time they reached the threshold to his bedroom.

Elizabeth walked in without a moment's hesitation, throwing her vest to the floor and tugging her tight black shirt over her head to reveal a soft, fitted black tank top. Jason stumbled slightly over her discarded clothes and let his own shirt drop to the massive armchair in the corner.

It took him a minute to kick off his pants and as he shuffled toward the bed clothed only in his boxer-briefs, he could make out Elizabeth's petite form in the dim light as she scurried to the head of the bed in only her black tank top and a pair of matching black bikini briefs. She sank down instantly on the pillows, completely exhausted, and he flopped down next to her moments later.

The sun slipped in through the cracks in the blinds and the birds chirped outside as the town awoke, but Jason and Elizabeth were already fast asleep.

--------------------------------

The last time she had slept in a bed, she was tucked away in a cozy little hotel room in Oxford, England, awaiting a rendezvous with her father's old undergraduate professor. That time, she had awoken wrapped up in Jason Morgan's arms, in a veritable lover's embrace that made her wonder what it would be like to _actually_ be his lover.

But as her eyes slowly opened, Elizabeth knew that she wasn't in Oxford anymore. No, she was safely across the pond, back home where she belonged – and in the same arms where she belonged.

Jason was sleeping on his side, spooned up behind her. One of his thick, hard arms constituted her pillow and his hand was comfortably molded to her breast. The other arm wrapped around her waist and his hand spanned her flat stomach, the long fingers slipping easily and without pretension under her black bikini briefs. 

She smirked to herself and lay still, listening to him breath as he slept on. This was definitely not a bad way to start her morning – or afternoon, rather. The moments passed slowly and she felt him eventually begin to shift as his breathing changed and it was when his hand began to move in a slow, suggestive circle low over her belly that Elizabeth knew Jason Morgan was wide awake and ready for some fun.

Grinning, she turned on her side so that she faced him and lifted her hand to gently comb her fingers through his mussed and tousled sandy spikes.

"Morning."

He treated her with a rare boyish grin and instead of reciprocating the greeting, pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. "Wanna shower with me?"

Elizabeth laughed, already sitting up as he rolled into a sitting position. "I think that would be wise."

Jason's bare feet hit the carpet with a soft thud when he slightly misjudged the distance to the end of the bed, and the brunette scrambled off the edge after him. It was a race to the massive master bath – a race that Elizabeth won, only narrowly, because Jason cheated by lifting her up in his arms and depositing her on the cool tiles.

She took a quick minute to rinse out her mouth as he stepped over to the shower and turned it on to test the water and pressure. Her eyes were still hazy, her mouth felt like a dry gym sock, and her hair looked like it had once lodged a pair of angry beavers. Her soft undergarments were wrinkled from a long morning's cat nap, and she reeked of salt water and dead fish.

Jason didn't look or smell much better, but she'd forgive him simply because of how amazing he looked in those boxer-briefs – the ones she intended to have off him in no more than twenty seconds.

When Elizabeth turned around, he was standing with the shower door partially down and watching her hesitantly, as if he fully believed that she'd change her mind and head to the guest bedroom and bathroom.

As if.

Tipping her chin up in the air, the petite brunette fixed him with a direct vixen glare and waltzed over to his side and under his arm. She had whipped her black tank top off her body and shimmied out of her bikini briefs before he could fully comprehend what was going on and stepped under the full blast of the water, quirking a brow seductively at him.

"Plan to join me anytime soon?"

Jason snapped his mouth shut and hooked his thumbs under the band of his boxers. They fell to the floor in one smooth motion and he stepped out of them and into the shower with her. 

Elizabeth reached for him the moment he closed the door and Jason joined her under the spray, turning her neatly so his back was to the faucet. The spray hit him directly in the shoulder, exploding upon contact and Elizabeth licked her lips as she slicked her wet hair back.

She should have been embarrassed with the way his smoldering eyes blatantly roamed over her wet, nude form, but she wasn't. The past few weeks had taught her a thing or two about trust, and after what she and Jason had been through she knew she'd never have to doubt his trust in her and vice versa again. She trusted him now, in this moment, and she wasn't embarrassed.

It was hardly what she had imagined for their first time; standing pressed up against Jason Morgan's hard – and growing harder – form under a torrent of water was not the first scenario that had run through her mind on the many occasions when her thoughts had strayed to what it would be like to be his lover.

But as he angled her head back and ravaged her mouth, she couldn't think of any way for the moment to be improved. She had learned quickly that it was useless to try to predict and control the future; all one could do was roll with the punches, as Robert would say.

But then again, did she really want to be thinking about Robert Scorpio as Jason's fingers skimmed purposefully down her stomach to the junction of her thighs?

It was a question easily answered and Elizabeth abandoned all thought of anyone but herself and the gloriously wet mobster as he wrapped his other arm around her waist to keep her anchored close while he continued to tease her slick folds.

Dimly, she was aware of him easing her back until she hit the white tiles, her mouth still fused with his. Jason ignored her protests as he removed his hand from her center and used it to prompt her to wrap her lean legs around his waist. She complied readily, prepared to do anything to ease the ache between her thighs. 

He couldn't stop touching her; he wouldn't ever stop touching her. Jason's large hands roamed her body proudly, possessively, as he explored the expanses of taut muscle and soft, lush mounds and curves that she so willingly offered him for their pleasure.

Elizabeth's moan resonated in the thick vapor that shrouded the bathroom as Jason hoisted her up, and the brunette wrapped her legs tightly around his trim waist as he pushed her higher. His hot mouth greedily sought her skin, marking her wherever he could reach and sending sizzling trails of fire blazing straight down to her center.

And when he slipped into her for the first time, slowly working his way in deeper until they were perfectly connected, it was all over. He was everything that she never knew she always wanted, all at once, and a profound feeling of awe and gratitude overcame her as a wave of fire washed through her body and sent her over the edge in a torrent of flames.

She was grateful to have known him, to have been rescued by him, to have been his friend and so much more. He wasn't perfect, but he was all that she needed. All of the time they had spent dancing back and forth, one step forward and two steps backward, seemed to be such an utterly saddening waste: all she had to do was grab what was right in front of her and hold on for dear life, which was exactly what she planned to do now.

If she had known that this was her reward for the sheer, unadulterated terror of the past few weeks, she would have pushed fearlessly on because it was all worth it. She had him now, in every way she wanted, and it was worth everything to her.


	52. 52

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – 52**

"I'm telling you, asshole, it was _your_ turn to get the groceries this week!"

Elizabeth smiled against Jason's mouth, pulling away but remaining in his embrace as the elevator doors swung open to reveal two bickering baboons.

"So tell me, Max, how the fuck am I supposed to go out and get your _low fat, low sodium_ sour cream when the entire town is under lock-down?"

"I don't care," the Italian guard replied stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm just not swinging by the A&P this week. Psycho Cybil is always at the bakery counter whenever I go there and she keeps trying to grope me."

"You think you got problems with that harpie?" Johnny demanded, not even noticing that his employer was staring at him and his roommate like they'd lost their minds. "The last time I tried getting some cupcakes for Mikey, she propositioned me! In front of all the Pharmacy guys, too – I still can't buy any fucking allergy medicine there!"

They stopped only when they heard Elizabeth burst into laughter, and the two bodyguards had the decency to look somewhat embarrassed as the petite brunette tugged Jason aboard. But their embarrassment soon faded when the two guards noticed Jason's tousled hair and untucked shirt, along with the brunette's healthy flush.

Even the enforcer's icy glare didn't wipe the grins from Johnny and Max's faces as they took the elevator down to the lobby, making sure to exchange a few thinly veiled innuendos that would most likely get them in trouble but not killed.

Elizabeth was thoroughly enjoying the boy talk at Jason's expense as she stepped out into the lobby behind her boyfriend, listening to her voicemail. Johnny and Max had better hurry up and get all their shots in – the feeling of camaraderie they currently enjoyed with Sonny and Jason would fade as soon as the aftermath of Helena and Alcazar's reign of terror faded, and they'd be back to pushing papers and playing Revolving Door if they weren't careful.

Jason was gritting his teeth and imagining the best way to kill two men with nothing more than a pair of shoelaces when he felt her hand on his arm and looked back to see the brunette frowning at her phone before slipping it into his purse.

"Okay, guys, small change of plans," she started hesitantly, nibbling her lip when she saw that she had their complete attention. "I have to make a quick run by the docks before we head to Luke's."

"I'm coming with you," Jason spoke up automatically, glancing at the two guards who nodded along.

"Okay, see, that's what I was afraid of," Elizabeth admitted with an impish grin. "If you're all coming with me, I need you to promise me something."

The men looked at each other before suspiciously turning to the little woman. "What?"

"That you won't start shooting until I can explain."

-------------------------------

He should have known better than to give her his word when she made such outrageous demands. But he had, and because of that Jason Morgan found himself standing around on the docks at a quarter to midnight with two high-strung bodyguards and a whistling brunette as they waited for their mystery guest.

A large white yacht could be seen in the distance; it hadn't been there twelve hours earlier but was currently at anchor. Instead, a black motorboat cut through the choppy waves of the Port Charles Harbor, drawing closer in order to dock.

Elizabeth glared at Johnny and Max when she noticed their hands resting very close to their hip holsters. The men glared back but didn't remove their hands. Jason shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his narrowed cerulean eyes trained on the motorboat as it approached.

There were four men aboard. One steered, killing the engine as they drew nigh and coasting to a stop. Two others immediately sprang out to secure the boat and help the fourth man out onto the planks, and Jason's gut tightened in anticipation.

Without glancing at the three men behind her, Elizabeth tucked her hair behind her ears and walked down the length of the pier, a broad but formal smile on her face. Johnny and Max exchanged alarmed looks and quickly followed her on Jason's heels, but the three men came to a crashing halt when a single tall, imposing figure stepped out of the inky shadows and they found themselves standing face to face with Luis Alcazar.

The dead man extended his hand, clasping Elizabeth's smaller, paler one in both of his own. She shook his hand warmly, pausing to glare over her shoulder when Jason and the guards all reached for their weapons.

"Lorenzo, I'm so glad you made it," she said, offering the tall Spaniard a small smile. "Robert was supposed to meet you here but he couldn't make it in time. He sends his regards."

"Please return the gesture," the older man smiled tightly, still holding her hand in his. "I came as soon as I got the wire. It was good of you two to warn me personally of my brother's affairs a few days ago. I regret that I could do nothing in time to save him, but at times I have wonder if he was to be saved at all."

Elizabeth nodded solemnly and with a small sigh, turned around to face Jason and the two guards. "Jason, this is Lorenzo Alcazar. He's Luis' brother. Robert and I were on our way to see him in Spain when we stopped in Portugal – you know about the hotel explosion. Lorenzo, this is Jason Morgan and that's John O'Brien and Max Giambetti."

The Spaniard nodded at the wary men before turning his attention back to the petite brunette. "Robert said that there would be an agent awaiting me when I came to settle Luis' affairs."

Elizabeth nodded immediately. "Yeah – Garrett McPherrin is at General Hospital right now, and he's expecting you. I think there are some other people with him – some men from the…U.S. State Department? I'm really not sure-"

Lorenzo nodded hastily. "Yes, yes, they're associates of the family. I thank you for your help, Elizabeth, and I'm profoundly sorry for the damage Luis has caused to you personally and the rest of this town. Words cannot express my guilt."

"It wasn't your fault," she offered softly. "_You_ didn't do it."

"No, but I didn't stop it, either," he replied flatly. "Luis…Luis was never right again after Sophia died. We did what we could, but he couldn't be reached. And so when he left Barcelona and set sail on his yacht…we didn't do anything to stop him. We didn't keep track of his affairs or his partnerships or his exploits. And that's how he got involved with Helena Cassidine. I know what my brother was, Elizabeth, but the part of me that remembers him from before needs to believe that he could have been stopped before it went this far."

She pursed her lips and looked down at her feet, nodding. She didn't know what to say to that, and knew that if she attempted condolences, they would ring false because she was glad the son of a bitch was dead.

Lorenzo understood her reticence and seemed to respect her for it. He cleared his throat roughly and glanced at his men who stood stationed behind him like silent sentinels. "There is one more thing…"

Jason's hands remained stuffed in his pockets as Elizabeth nodded quickly. "Sure, what?"

"…Can you tell me if Miss Brenda Barrett is currently at General Hospital?" The Spaniard's eyes met hers directly, imploring her to answer honestly.

Elizabeth opened her mouth but it took her a few seconds to get a word out. "…Oh. Oh, um, Brenda. Y-Yes, she's there, but…but I don't know if it would be smart to – I mean – you know, you just look so much – and I don't know if-"

Lorenzo smiled faintly and nodded once. "I do not intend to see her personally, Elizabeth, if that is what has you concerned. I realize that she is under intense psychological pressure at the moment, no thanks to Luis, and that seeing me would not bode well for her condition."

He touched the breast of his impeccable suit and she could hear the faint crackle of a concealed envelope. "I would only like to give her something…a letter and a few other things I would like her to have. If you say she's still there, I will leave them with McPherrin and have him see to it that she receives them."

"Sounds good," she nodded jerkily, reaching out to take his hand once more and giving it a firm shake. "Thank you for coming, Lorenzo. If you need anything else, feel free to get in touch with Robert or myself and we'll help in any way you can."

"I couldn't ask anything more of you two," the businessman responded softly, letting go of her hand and tipping his chin at his men. "Goodbye, Elizabeth."

She crossed her arms around her middle and stepped aside, watching as Lorenzo and his men strode past Jason and the guards and toward the rickety wooden stairs. "Goodbye, Mister Alcazar."

Lucky, Luke and Robert were already bickering by the time Jason, Elizabeth and the two guards stepped into_ Luke's Bar_ which was open for the first time in years.

"Well, how the hell was I to know that she'd throw a vase at my head?" Robert demanded, his hands on his hips as he stood with Luke behind the counter. "At the hospital, she and Noah couldn't have been more grateful, but when I stopped by the Brownstone to say hi, she chucked a vase at my head!"

"Women," Luke agreed, polishing a glass. "And Barbara Jean's usually so level-headed, too, but I guess you never can tell with them."

Lucky was rolling his eyes as the foursome approached. "Honestly, Robert, _I_ could have told you she'd do that. Didn't I tell you that Felicia would cry and hug you? I can totally call all the crazy shit women pull. I don't know how you didn't know that Aunt Bobbie would be pissed off at you – you should just be glad that she didn't throw shoes. Usually, they throw shoes."

Elizabeth laughed at that, pulling Jason along behind her as she approached the group. The two old men grinned at her the moment they saw her and Lucky motioned the guards forward and handed them each a beer before sliding off his stool and making his way over to Elizabeth.

"See this one?" he motioned, pulling the petite brunette against his side in a lazy hug. "_She_ throws shoes. I'm telling you, I know this stuff."

"Know what stuff?" Elizabeth wanted to know as Jason took a seat next to Johnny and Max. "Clue me in."

"Cowboy apparently has a knack for predicting the behavior of the fairer sex," Luke drawled, making it clear that he wasn't buying it. "And your pal Robert here almost got beaned in the noggin with a crystal vase."

"Yeah, Bobbie's got a great arm," the brunette admitted, smirking at the ex-commissioner. "You're just lucky she didn't decapitate you with that thing."

"The Brownstone used to be such a warm, welcoming place once, too," Robert sighed before shrugging his shoulder. "Ah, well. I'll just have to strap on some heavy padding before I venture there again. Say, Morgan, where's your boy?"

"Sonny's still at the hospital with Carly and Michael," the enforcer replied, taking a long pull of his beer as Elizabeth hopped onto the stool next to his. "Says that if he doesn't get a chance to say goodbye, to tell you that he'll see you in Hell."

"Such a charmer, that one," Robert growled, reaching behind the counter for a tall glass filled with a pale pink beverage that he then slid across the counter to Elizabeth. "Here – try this, doll, see if it's to your liking."

The brunette quirked a curiously amused glance at him before accepting the drink and taking a sip. "Ooh – that's pretty good. What is it?"

"A Robert Scorpio Special Recipe," the detective informed her, his eyes crinkling with laughter. "I left it with Luke so that when I'm not around, he can fix it for you."

The answer was troubling, and Jason watched as his girlfriend's dark brows furrowed. "You're not leaving right away, are you, Robbie? You're going to stick around for a few days?"

"I'm not sure that I can," the old man replied reluctantly. "I was planning on shipping out in about twenty-four hours – give myself some time to rest. Got a call from a colleague stationed near Macchu Picchu, and I somehow wound up telling him I'd try to swing by and lend him a hand if I possibly could."

Elizabeth frowned, setting her drink down on the counter. "So soon? Really?" Her shoulders slumped when Robert shrugged. "I'm really going to miss you, Robbie. I can't even imagine not seeing you everyday."

"Well, hey, come on, now, I haven't gone anywhere yet," the agent grinned, brandishing his own half-full glass of single malt. "We've still got some time left to have some fun, don't we?"

"Hey! Elizabeth, check out what I found." The small group turned to see a very dusty Lucky stumbling out of the back room with something draped over his shoulder, and Elizabeth let out a squeal when she recognized his old guitar.

"Oh, my God, where did you find that?"

"Tucked way in back, behind Dad's fake accounting books," Lucky grinned, passing it off to her so that she could inspect it.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Robert called out helpfully, glaring at an unapologetic Luke.

"Oh, look, it's still got the stickers on it," Elizabeth cooed, fingering the peeling stickers she had given him years ago. "And, hey – your lucky pick!"

"Pun intended," her ex-boyfriend grinned when she dropped the dark blue plastic onto his palm. "Man, I haven't seen this thing in _forever_. It can't still be in tune…"

He strummed it once, and he and Elizabeth both made a face at the resulting discordance. "Yeah, it's definitely not."

"Lucky, I didn't know you were a musician," Robert spoke up, tilting his head to the side. "Luke mentioned it once, I think, but I didn't think much of it. You any good?"

"He's great," Elizabeth beamed, returning to her stool next to Jason. "You should hear him play."

"I used to be okay," Lucky admitted, plopping down on top of the counter and trying to tune the old instrument. "But I fell out of it for a couple years. Didn't write, didn't play, didn't do much of anything with it. I don't know…maybe this is a sign. Maybe I should start up again. I used to have so much fun annoying the crap out of Dad with this thing…"

Luke leveled a glare at his best friend. "You're getting a dead rat in your dinner tonight, Robert."

"My compliments to the chef, then," the agent replied, kissing his fingertips with a flourish as the clang of Gothic bells suddenly rang through the room. "Um…I think there's someone at the door."

"Who that is?" Luke yelled toward the door, frowning when no one replied. "It's open, so you might as well get your ass in here. Five dollars with ticket, ten at the door."

Elizabeth and Lucky could hardly believe their eyes when the door opened just a crack and a very familiar face peeked in apprehensively. "Claude!"

"Claude?" Luke's eyes were as wide as saucers and the old man set his drink down on the counter, stumbling toward the door as if in a daze. "Claude? My Claude? It's you – you're back!"

Elizabeth and Jason bit back their laughter when the senile old man threw his arms around his former employee. If Claude looked like he was about to bolt before, he looked ready to scream right about now.

"Oh, Claude, why did you leave me?" Luke implored, refusing to let the younger man go. "I missed you so much – you and your dreadlocks and your cigarettes and your shitty bartending skills. And the Rastafarian music – did I tell you I missed the Rastafarian music? I can't say _Yea, man_ without getting a little misty."

Even Robert was grinning at the exchange as Elizabeth did her best to remain on her stool instead of falling to the floor. At the door, Luke continued to clutch a very terrified Claude.

"Oh, Claude, you were the son I never had."

"Hey!"

The old man didn't even turn around at Lucky's indignant cry. "The dark-skinned, dread-locked, crappy bartender son I never had. Don't ever leave me, Claude. I promise, I'll be good to you. From now on, things will be different between us. From now on, I'll treat you with respect and kindness, and I won't yell at you, and I'll actually pay you on time. We're turning a new leaf, you and I. Oh, this feels good, Claude. Doesn't this feel good?"

"Mr. Spencer…" The man's wide eyes darted helplessly around the room. "If I say yes, will you let me go?"

"Oh, I'll never let you go, Claude."

"How about you just…hold my hand instead?"

"Done!" Luke exclaimed, releasing the poor man and throwing an arm around his shoulders to lead him toward the group. "Guess what, gang? Claude says he's going to come work for me again!"

"Wait, Mr. Spencer, I never said-"

"Claude says he's going to come work for me again!"

Jason chuckled as the man in question opened his mouth to say something then appeared to realize that it would do no good. "Yeah, I did."

"You heard him," Luke exclaimed, brushing his son off the counter and buffing the spot and the adjacent stool with his shirtsleeve before offering it to Claude. "Now everybody shut up and pay attention to Claude. You want something to drink?"

"Water will be fine-"

"Have a beer," the old man commanded, setting it down in front of him. "And drink it fast because we've got work to do. This is our first night with customers again! So, tell me, Claude, my favorite Claude, how did you know to come by here tonight? Did you hear my fractured and wounded soul calling out to you?"

"I was taking the I-25 back from seeing my sister in Rochester," he replied meekly. "I saw the lights on and thought I'd see what was going on."

"Did you hear that, gang? Claude heard my fractured and wounded soul calling out to him."

Elizabeth turned her face into Jason's shoulder to hide her laughter as a humming Luke went happily about his business behind the counter. Lucky, who had since hopped back onto the counter with his guitar, directed a bland look in the bar tender's direction. "Welcome to my Hell."

----------------------------------------

The grandfather clock in the corner had just finished striking four in the morning, and the gang was still going strong. Sonny had dropped in for a little bit to say hi and Luke had sent him back with a bag of ribs that they had all ordered from Eli's, just so a recovering Carly and Michael wouldn't take another nosedive due to crappy hospital food. Claude's reign had come to an end and Luke had put him to work in the kitchen but had been forced to send him into the back room to take inventory after he heard the crash of breaking dishes. Lucky had finished tuning his guitar and handed it off to Johnny to let him try his hand at it. Jason and Elizabeth were sitting tangled together on the leather stools, downing their drinks at a healthy pace and just enjoying the downtime.

Robert grimaced when he turned away from Luke toward the young couple only to find them in another clinch. He eyed the seltzer dispenser that he had used to separate them earlier, then thought better of it. The last time he'd hosed them down, Morgan had actually reached for his holster, and Robert didn't feel like trying his luck again tonight.

Instead, he picked up a paper napkin and wadded it into a ball before pitching it at the pair. It caught Jason directly on his large nose, and Robert couldn't help but smile as the young man glared at him.

"What do you want?"

"Nothing from you," he snipped, fumbling around under the counter for the envelope he remembered putting down there earlier. Four hours of alternating between scotch on the rocks and club soda were catching up to him, and it took him three tries to locate the elusive envelope. "For Elizabeth."

She took the packet from him, eyeing it curiously. "Who's this from?"

"Anna," Robert replied immediately. "It arrived at the bar for you today, and I completely forgot about it until just now when I saw you two trying to crawl into each other's mouths."

"I really like that Anna Divine," Luke announced from halfway across the room. "She's…hot."

"It's a good thing you're way the hell over there," Robert informed him, pointing toward the grandfather clock that bore a remarkable resemblance to his best friend, "or I'd beat the living spaghetti sauce out of you. All…four of you. And your little dog, too."

"That's a lamp."

"Close enough."

"Oh, wait – I lied. It's Claude. Claude, you lamp, what do you think you're doing out here? I told you not to take in the light of day til you got the list done!"

"It's night, sir."

"That's it, you're fired! Take your stuff and get out! But do the list first!"

"Sure thing, Mr. Spencer."

"He's not going to do the list," Luke confided to no one. "He's just going to go upstairs and smoke a doobie in one of the rooms before going to sleep. Damn you, Claude. Damn you to Hell."

"So, Elizabeth." Robert shook his head briskly before crossing his elbows on the counter and turning to his little friend. "What's my ex-wife got to say?"

"She sent me a letter," the brunette replied happily, pulling out the note. She had been watching her alcohol intake all night and was doing better than the rest of the men in the room. "She's got real pretty handwriting. Okay, this is what she says…"

_Wildcard –_

Nice name. It's been jumping through the wire all day. I've finished up in Mexico; the operation was a success and all your friends are fine. Emmanuel Mortega is the new governor of the town, democratically picked by the people of Calvillo, and was sworn in yesterday morning. Enclosed you will find some photographs that Magdalena wanted you to have – they're from her wedding! It was a lovely affair, and very warm and inviting with enough home-cooked food to feed an army. She says that she hopes you and Señor Roberto and El Guapo are fine, along with the other men that came down to Calvillo after you, and that she hopes you have made up with your own gorilla because she certainly has with hers. In fact, she married him. There's a shot of your kitten in there, too; he's living with Pedro now. If I had more time in Calvillo, I would have made my next mission finding that incorrigible boy a good girl to spend some time with. But that's the size of it, and I must be off. I pack up tomorrow morning and jet out to lands unknown – and classified. Magdalena sends her love, and I send my warm regards to you and your friends. I don't quite know all of what you and Robert have been up to these past few weeks, but I'm sure I'll be filled in promptly. Bang-up job – you're far too clever by half, it seems. Til we meet again; hopefully it will be under far better circumstances.

– The White Rose 

Jason watched as Elizabeth brushed away a single tear that ran down her cheek. "Magda called you a gorilla."

He laughed gently and pressed a kiss to her temple. "I heard."

----------------------------------------

"Hey! Hey! Everyone shut up! That means you, Claude!"

The bar quieted down as the assembled group looked toward Luke who was punching keys on his automated phone system.

"What's going on?"

"Cool it, Crocodile Dundee," the old man growled, holding the receiver pressed between his shoulder and ear. "There's a very special little lady on the phone and if I can just figure out how to get this damn thing to…Aha! Sing it, Gumdrop!"

_"Hiiiiiii, fambly!"_

Lucky and Elizabeth's jaws dropped. "Lulu!"

_"Eeeeee! Lucky! Elizabeth! Hi!"_

Luke was beaming as the two practically mowed Johnny and Max down in their haste to get to the counter. They hopped onto the stools and leaned almost completely over the edge of the bar as Jason and Robert set down their pool cues and ambled over.

_"What are you guys doing up this early? Isn't it, like, five in the morning?"_

"Six," Elizabeth corrected. "And it's a really long story, but we promise we'll fill you in. Two words: Helena Cassidine."

_"Son of a-"_

"Daughter…"

_"Sorry, Dad. So what happened? And how come no one told me that the Dragon Lady was on a rampage?"_

"Like she said, long story, Lulubelle," Lucky shrugged, using her old nickname from when they were both much younger. "Helena teamed up with one of Sonny Corinthos' enemies – you remember Sonny, right?"

_"Sure, sure, Sonny and…Jason, was that it? Mister Jason?"_

"Yeah. She teamed up with their enemy and took control of the whole town while me, Dad, Elizabeth, Sonny and Jason were all in Mexico trying to find out who killed Roy."

_"Roy? Roy DiLucca? He died? No! Why didn't you guys tell me sooner? How's Aunt Bobbie?"_

"She's doing fine," Elizabeth assured her. "She and Roy broke up almost a year ago and even though it's still a big shock, she's doing okay."

_"Well…okay. So what happened in Mexico?"_

"We met up with Robert Scorpio and-"

_"Wait, I thought he was dead."_

"Ha!" came a laugh from the other side of the counter as Robert sloppily tried to pour himself some more scotch. Losing two hundred dollars to Jason in a game of pool was cause enough to drink. "Your father only wishes!"

_"Okay, so, obviously, he's not dead. He pulled a Mom?"_

"Pretty much," Lucky admitted. "We found him there in Mexico already and then somehow we found this necklace and then figured out that Helena was after it, too, so we all split up. Elizabeth and Robert went to England to find out more about the necklace and me and Dad came home to help Sonny and Jason."

"Long story short," Elizabeth cut in, wanting to save them all some valuable time, "Sonny's enemy is at the bottom of the harbor and Helena disappeared in a puff of pink smoke."

_"Okay, which idiot didn't see that coming? So everyone's okay, right?"_

"We're drunk," Robert clarified, wagging a finger at the telephone. "We're _better_ than okay."

_"So…everyone's okay, and the commissioner over there needs to go lie down on a sponge, right?"_

"Right," Elizabeth laughed. "So tell us about you, Lu – how's school? How's the Colonel? How's life across the pond?"

_"Oh, it's all great,"_ they heard her laugh nervously. _"School just started again, and it's going to be tough, but I can handle it. The Colonel's great. His arthritis is acting up again, so he has to take it easy."_

"You being good to the old guy?" Luke asked, thinking of his old associate who had graciously agreed to let Lulu stay at his house while she attended the boarding school in Wales. "You doing everything he tells you and letting him keep you safe?"

_"Yes, Daddy. Anyway, everything's good. I'm really looking forward to being an upperclassman. It's going to be pretty awesome. Plus, we're finally going to learn how to drive – I can't wait!"_

Lucky burst out laughing at that. "Man, I hope you're better at it than I was. The first time I took the car out, I ended up mowing down half the block."

"I only learned how to about a year ago," Elizabeth admitted. "Nikolas said it was 'inexcusable' that I didn't know how to drive and he made me come out to Wydemere and practice on the abandoned trails. I still like the bus better."

"Hey, I bet you're going to be chauffeured places from now on," her ex quipped, tipping his chin at Jason. "Isn't that right?"

Without thinking about it, Jason nodded as he accepted a beer from Robert. "Francis is on permanent driving duty."

_"Why is Elizabeth going to be chauffeured places from now on?"_ Lulu wanted to know.

"Because she's banging your Mister Jason now," her older brother snickered, barely managing to duck before Elizabeth beaned him upside the head. "What? It's true!"

_"Elizabeth, you're…with Mister Jason? Really? Isn't he too tall for you?"_

Lucky just shrugged. "It's why beds are flat, Lu. Ow!"

_"Ack! Elizabeth, what did you do to him?!"_

"Pushed him off the stool onto his fat butt."

_"Okay, he kind of had it coming, so I'll forgive you. So…you're really with Mister Jason?"_

"It's just Jason," Robert felt the need to announce. "There's no Mister. It's just Jason. Plain old Jason. Jason, Jason, Jason. No matter how many times I say it…I still really hate that boy."

_"Wow, you're just a barrel of sunshine, aren't you, Uncle Robert?"_

The detective frowned at that. "Uncle? No, no, there's no Uncle. It's just Robert. Plain old Robert-"

_"Robert, Robert, Robert,"_ Lulu finished with a laugh. _"Yeah, I was there the first time. So you guys are all just chilling at the bar? Who all is over there right now?"_

Lucky did a quick head count. "Let's see…me, Dad, Elizabeth, Jason, Robert, Johnny O'Brien and Max Giambetti – they're the bodyguards – and Sonny was here a while ago. Oh, guess what? Claude's milling around somewhere, too."

_"Claude? Yay! I love him! How long has he been back?"_

"A couple hours."

_"And he hasn't been fired yet?"_

"Oh, he's been fired at least seven times."

_"Good,"_ Lulu sighed with relief. _"Any less and he feels neglected. So you're all sitting around at the bar together and no one's shot anyone yet? That's amazing."_

"Jason's come close," Elizabeth admitted with a laugh, nudging her boyfriend who was trying to duck the wadded up napkins Robert kept pitching in his direction. "And I'm still convinced that your dad's been slipping rat poison in Robert's drink all night."

"No respect," the detective in question lamented, taking a seat next to Johnny and Max who were once again arguing about groceries.

_"Hey, speaking of Dad…is he still around? Can you get him? I really need to talk to him."_

Luke perked up at that and abandoned what he was doing at the other end of the counter to come closer to the phone. Lucky pushed it closer to him and crossed his arms over the counter. "It's about money," he whispered loudly. "How much do you want to bet it's about money?"

Luke glared at him before hunkering down by the phone. "What do you need, Daughter?"

_"Actually, I have a teenie, tiny favor to ask you. Have you wired over my tuition money yet?"_

"Not yet," her father admitted. "And I haven't spent it all playing the ponies, in case you were tempted to ask."

The sixteen-year old laughed. _"Yeah, I was going to. Anyway, about that. They're setting up a new student account system at school and it would be much, much easier if you just wired the money to my personal account – you know, the one with the Colonel? I could make the payments myself and draw money from it whenever I needed, and you wouldn't have to keep wiring it to me every time I ran out. Just a one-time payment transfer to my account – do you think you could do that?"_

Luke glared at a triumphant Lucky, then scratched his head. "…I guess I could. It sounds all right, doesn't it?" His son shrugged, then nodded. "Okay, if it makes things easier for you, sure, why not? When do you need to have the first term's dough in by?"

_"About a week."_

"Okay. I'll send you the money tomorrow, then, if I'm sober enough to go out into the light. You got all your books for the term? Your school supplies? Your uniform, that sort of thing?"

The Mother routine wasn't his forte, but Lulu appreciated the effort. _"Nope. I need money."_

"Okay, then I'll do it tomorrow," he promised. "And you call me if you need anything else, and be good to the Colonel."

_"I will, Daddy. Thank you, thank you!"_

"And say goodbye to your brother and Elizabeth – and don't take so long to call next time."

_"I won't,"_ the girl promised. _"Bye, Lucky, Elizabeth – and Robert and Johnny and Max and Mister Jason. I love you guys! I gotta go call Nikolas and then I gotta run, but I'll try to call again soon. Things are going to be really crazy this week, so I'll try again in two, okay? Bye! Have fun! Have a drink in my underage honor!"_

"Bye, Lulu," Lucky and Elizabeth replied in unison.

"Take care, sweetie," the brunette was sure to add. "We miss you – and we can't wait til you get home!"

_"Two more years,"_ came the smug answer. _"Later, fambly! Thanks again, Dad."_

Luke clicked off the phone once she hung up and slid a sidelong glance at his son. "Shut up."

"I'm telling you," Lucky shrugged with affected self-importance, "I can totally call what women do. It's a gift."

"Yeah, too bad this gift found you at a time when you ain't got no woman of your own, huh?" Luke sneered good-naturedly. "Why _is_ that, Cowboy?"

The boy glared at his father. "You're just jealous because I called all of it. _All_ of it."

"You should write this shit down," Johnny announced, resting his elbows against the counter as he sat with his back to the bar between Max and Robert. "You know, like, make notes on all this stuff that women do. What guy wouldn't like knowing what they're thinking and what they're gonna do?"

"They're a real mystery," Max agreed. "And, hey, if you got the gift, you can't waste it, man."

"I'm with the boys," Robert agreed sagely. "I've been an internationally renowned super-spy for the last forty years, and I'd trade everything I've learned just to know what a woman was thinking for even one minute."

"You know, I think I _will_ write it down," Lucky mused, ignoring Elizabeth and his father as they glared at him. "Think about it – if we guys knew what women were thinking, we'd never get in trouble. It'd be a revolution in the technique of mind games. Yeah, I'll compile all my stuff together in a little book – it'll be like, the Book on How To Fix Everything."


	53. Epilogue

**The Battle Of Who Could Care Less – Epilogue**

_A couple weeks later…_

"Boss."

Sonny looked out from behind the morning paper as he sat comfortably on the overstuffed olive couch with a steaming cup of coffee on the nearby end table at the sound of Johnny's voice. "What?"

"You've got guests," the Irishman grinned, stepping aside to let the intruders on. His grin only grew when the paper fell to Sonny's lap as a well-rested Robert Scorpio and very smug Luke Spencer stepped into Penthouse IV.

"Corinthos," the ex-commissioner smiled, slipping his hands into his slate blue trousers. "Long time no see. Sold any coffee recently?"

"Hung out on any exploding boats recently?" the mobster volleyed back, rising from the couch with a grin as Luke shuffled past his best friend. "What are you doing back in town? Does Elizabeth know you're here?"

Robert nodded as Luke poked around the breakfast table and finally settled on a muffin. "Just came back last night and ended up crashing at _Luke's_. I spoke to Elizabeth over the phone, but have yet to drop in on her. Luke and I are actually here on business."

"Business," Sonny chuckled, rubbing the corners of his mouth with his index finger and thumb. "Would this business involve the route and shipment transfer information I released to the World Security Bureau?"

The detective shook his head, his eyes glittering. "Oh, that – that's peanuts, Corinthos, compared to the real dirt we've got on you. No, no, we made a deal with you that the information you provided would not be used against you and we're bound to that. You don't need to consider us a threat…for the time being."

The mob lord flashed his dimples, choosing to ignore the last part of the statement. "I'm glad to hear you say that, Robert," he responded with a gesture of magnanimity. "Because if there's one thing I'm good at, it's eliminating threats."

"Oh, save your insinuations," the old man huffed good-naturedly, puffing out his chest as he studied the amused mobster. "I know exactly what you're implying. And I would hate to break this to you, Corinthos, if you weren't such a smug little bastard, but you're indebted to me. You _need_ me."

Sonny's brows lifted a fraction of an inch. "I do?"

Robert's smile grew at the younger man's professed innocence. "You give yourself too much credit, my friend. There's nothing stopping my colleagues at the Bureau from pulling out your file and handing you your walking papers to Sing-Sing. Nothing but me, that is. As long as I'm around and close by, they're willing to forgo an investigation and stick to more pressing concerns. Think of me as…a ticking time bomb, if you will. When I'm gone, all bets are off. Remember that."

Sonny grinned at the agent's speech. "And to what do I owe your…protection?"

Robert's features tightened into a frown; he did not like thinking that he was granting the smarmy mob boss protection in any way. "To Elizabeth and to my daughter. Both of them would be hurt if you were hurt, so you're safe for the time being. But don't let it get to your head."

"Enough shop talk," Luke interrupted, cramming the last of his muffin into his mouth and dusting his hands off. The resulting crumbs on the thick carpet earned him a dark glare from Sonny that went unnoticed. "I'd love to stand around all morning and watch you two whip those things around, but time is money and I ain't getting any richer."

"What do you need, Luke?" Sonny obliged, slipping his hands into his dark trousers. "Is this about our new venture in Vegas? I've got Alexis working on the papers; she'll have them over to you as soon as she finishes the warehouse rebuilding permits-"

"No, no, it's not about that," Luke assured him. "Let Natasha do her thing with that; I can wait. This is something a bit more…personal. Robert and I are going on a little trip."

"To Hell?" Sonny muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Robert's brows furrowed as he glared at the mob boss. "What was that?"

"I said, do tell," the Cuban quickly corrected himself, flashing the older man an impish grin. "Where are you going?"

"Vladivostok," Luke replied gleefully, rubbing his hands together. "And we need your help."

"What are you going out there for?"

"We got a tip, of sorts," Robert allowed, stroking his chin. His pale topaz eyes twinkled as he exchanged glances with his best friend. "An old friend that we've been meaning to…catch up with…has finally turned up. And far be it for us to pass up this golden opportunity."

Sonny shook his head, grinning. "You're both sick."

"We've been called worse," Luke shrugged. "Anyway, we're all packed and ready to go, but here's where you come in. We need your help."

"And what can I do for you in…Vladivostok?"

"You've got that contact of yours stationed in Moscow, right?" Luke folded his arms over his chest and Robert followed suit. "The one that helped out in…gosh, when was it? Ninety-two? Ninety-three? Somewhere in that timeframe. He's on the outskirts of town, posing as a civil servant and runs the prostitution ring up there?"

A spark of ignition flickered in Sonny's obsidian eyes. "Kolesnikov, yeah. You need to get in touch with him?"

Luke and Robert were nodding. "We've got a couple contacts in East Asia, but none as close to the situation as your guy. You think you could get that going for us?"

The mobster scratched his head, mulling it over. "It's short notice, but he owes me a favor so I think we can manage. One question."

"Shoot," Robert sighed, quirking a brow at the younger man.

"You're not going to put him away, are you? That'd be very bad for business."

The agent rolled his eyes. "No, Corinthos, we're not going to put your friend the 'proprietor' away. Not yet, at any rate. No, I'm probably going to be forced to offer him a deal similar to the one we offered you – clemency in exchange for partial disclosure. At any rate, it's very important that we get in touch with him."

"I'll make the call right now," Sonny agreed, already heading toward his desk and reaching for the phone. The older men waited patiently, milling idly around the luxurious penthouse as the mobster lounged in his executive desk chair, conversing with his contact's partner before finally reaching the elusive man.

"Look at this," Robert muttered, poking the overstuffed sofa. "All of this. Who decorated in here – Pee Wee Herman? It looked much better back when Sean was living here…Oh, I bet this imbecile's boarded up the panic room, too. Now _that_ was a beauty."

"Call him an imbecile _after_ he gets us Kolesnikov," Luke whispered, jabbing his best friend with an elbow and flashing Sonny a facetious smile.

Sonny glared at the two men and continued speaking into the receiver in fluent Russian, and Robert and Luke were still standing anxiously by when he finally hung up and stood to face them. "It's done. I gave him your contact information and his people will get in touch with you as soon as you touch down. He knows what to expect but wants the deal made up front before any other measures are taken."

Robert rolled his eyes, but didn't dispute it. "Fair enough. All you crooks – you're all the same."

"Thank you," Sonny smiled, his dark eyes glittering. "Coming from you, that's quite a compliment."

"Okay, okay, enough flirting, you two," Luke commanded, grabbing Robert's shoulder and tugging him toward the door. "Corinthos, you're a good man. Thanks for the help, and I look forward to entering into a partnership with you and Morgan again. I've got the folks in Vegas just where we want them, and I have a profitable little venture in the works in South America, so we'll see how that goes. It'll be just like old times."

"Just like old times," Sonny agreed, shaking his former associate's hand firmly. "Take care, Luke, Robert."

"You, too," Robert replied, tipping his head at the younger man. "How's your little boy doing? Making a smooth recovery?"

"Good as new," the mobster smiled, inwardly pleased that the agent had taken the time to ask. "Enjoy Russia and give Kolesnikov my best."

Luke grinned, pushing a grumbling Robert out the door and clapped Johnny on the back as the guard pulled the door shut behind them. "Okay, so that's taken care of. We're good to go."

"Not yet," his best friend disagreed, holding up his hand. "We finished earlier than I expected and if possible, I'd like to swing by and see Elizabeth before we leave. I told her I didn't think I could, but it'll be fun to surprise the kid."

"Okay, but we don't have to 'swing by' anywhere," Luke shrugged, tipping his chin at the door directly across the hall. "She lives right there."

"There?" Robert repeated, pointing incredulously at Penthouse II. "She lives there? But that's Morgan's penthouse."

"Yeah, and in the words of my son, she's currently banging him, so…" The old man shrugged again as Robert scratched the back of his head. "You wanna drop in? Spread a little sunshine and good cheer?"

A slow grin spread across the agent's face and he rubbed his hands together. "Let's – oh, do let's. This should be good."

-------------------------------------

Jason dropped the phone onto the couch and looked over as Elizabeth ambled lazily down the steps, padding barefoot across the hardwood floors dressed only in his black t-shirt. The corner of his mouth twitched as she brought one hand up to shake out her mussed tresses, and he moved away from the brown leather couch to reach out to her.

"Morning," he smiled, nipping her plush lower lip between his teeth and enjoying the way her fingers skittered across his bare chest before she settled on wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Mm," she murmured, not one for morning chit-chat. "Coffee?"

"Right there," Jason informed her, pointing to the one thing in the world that she loved more than him. "On the table."

She left his arms almost instantly, skidding to a halt by the coffee table to pick up the steaming mug. A good whiff had her eyes widening at the jolt, and Jason watched in amusement as she sipped the scalding liquid and slowly came to life.

"Lucky called," he spoke up, taking a seat on the arm of the couch and parting his legs when she came to stand between them. Elizabeth continued to sip her coffee as he played with her hair, tucking the tousled chocolate locks behind the delicate shell of her ear. "He said something about _Luke's_ and a paint job and wanted to know if you were in."

Elizabeth remembered a previous conversation from a few days ago and nodded. "Yeah, he was saying that they'd have to give it another two coats. Did he tell you a date?"

"Day after tomorrow?" Jason guessed, running a hand through his dark blonde spikes. "It was kind of hard to hear him – there was some really loud music in the background."

"Luke is going to shoot Claude between the eyes and throw his Rastafarian CDs in the oven," the brunette sighed, rewarding herself for her premonition with another sip of Jason's amazing brew. She had no idea how she had lived so long without sampling Jason Morgan's specially prepared morning coffee…and a few other things as well.

He smirked at that, settling one large hand on the curve of her hip and lazily rubbing circles through the soft black cotton. "I have to go over to the PCPD today and take care of the warehouse permits myself, but I'm free after that if you wanted to do something. We could hang around Jake's, or pack some food and take the bike up to Canada…"

"Ooh, tempting," she smiled back, tapping her finger thoughtfully on her chin. "…But I kinda promised my Gram I'd stop by for lunch. If you want to after that, then I'm free. How about this? We do our lunch thing, then take the bike up past the border and find some roadside motel and-"

A knock on the door interrupted her, and Jason looked over sharply at the intrusion. With a sigh, he smacked Elizabeth's bottom and slipped off the arm of the couch, heading toward the door dressed only in his black pajama bottoms.

His scowl darkened when he yanked the door open only to come face-to-face with the last two people in the world that he wanted to see while Elizabeth was standing around dressed in nothing but his shirt and talking about seedy motels.

"What do you want?"

"Good morning, sunshine, to you, too," Robert Scorpio grinned back, his arm resting casually on his best friend's shoulder. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

"Hey, Morgan," Luke laughed, his own arms folded across his chest. "Nice abs."

Jason glowered at the two old men but they remained as infuriatingly chipper as ever. Robert leaned to the side, peering over the younger man's broad shoulder, and grinned the instant his eyes landed on Elizabeth. He waved to the petite brunette who was seated on the arm of the couch with a mug of coffee, and she smiled warmly back in reply.

"Elizabeth," he exclaimed happily as Luke beamed. "Luke told me you still lived here but I just wouldn't believe him. She's still your roomie, huh, Morgan? I figured she would have packed up and left your arse weeks ago! What a trooper – sticking it out all this time. Your blood's fit for bottling, doll."

Elizabeth grinned at that and straightened her shoulders, but Jason wasn't pleased or amused. "What do you two want?"

"Careful, Morgan," Robert warned, wagging a finger dangerously close to the enforcer's face. "If you keep making that face, you'll be stuck like that. And we'll see how the ladies like you then."

Luke swallowed a smirk when he saw Jason's eyes narrow lethally and held up his hands, quickly pushing on. "Okay, okay, enough small talk. Robert and I just dropped by to say hi to you lovebirds. How's it going?"

The enforcer glared at him, a muscle in his jaw ticking, and the agent let out a dramatic sigh.

"All right, all right, we'll push on, though I must say that your manners leave something to be desired," he snipped. "We just came by to talk to Elizabeth. Doll, we've got a little proposition for you and would love to hear your thoughts."

"Shoot, Robbie," she smiled, her eyes twinkling when they connected with Jason's displeased cerulean orbs. "I'm all ears."

"We've had a Helena sighting, darlin'," Luke beamed. "She's in Russia, close to Siberia, and she's been lying low for a month up there getting to know the penguins and building ice sculptures."

"Luke and I are all packed up and ready to jet out," Robert added, his pale blue eyes twinkling at the look on Jason's face. "It's about time for another adventure – what do you say? Are you in?"

Elizabeth's loud laughter soon joined Robert and Luke's as Jason stared at the two senile old men, a look of abject horror in his wide blue eyes, before the enforcer stepped back and slammed the door in their faces.

**The End.**

**Author's Note**:

At long last, I've finished this story. It wasn't even supposed to be a story, but the first chapter got such an overwhelming response that I was effectively bullied into continuing. At 402 pages and almost 190,000 words, it is easily the longest piece I have ever written in my entire life.

Thank you to the readers that kept up with this; that goes without saying. I appreciated every note of feedback and greatly enjoyed reading your thoughts. Completing this behemoth has vastly increased my confidence, and I'm so glad to have had this experience.

This story started out as a silly, rambling little vignette but soon turned into a Huma-epic. I could tell from the feedback that some of you were very excited to continue on to the next chapters and find out what happened, and I felt the same way as a writer. To start a new Word document and begin the next chapter was an intense and very exciting experience, and part of me is sad that it's all come to a close.

This story was a way to fully flesh out my great love for Tristan Rogers and Big Daddy Scorpio, and I somehow stumbled upon a great way to have the GH of yesteryear meet the GH of today, and I'm quite pleased with the result. It was good to get Luke back into the swing of things and morph Lucky from a grade-A jerk to the cool, slick kid he used to be. Writing my own twist on the virus was pretty fun, too! And then of course, there's Liason. Ah, Liason.

Thank you for reading and replying to this story; thank you for taking this journey with me. If you liked this story, I urge you to stick around and keep an eye out for the sequel, "How To Fix Everything". I'm hoping that it will be just as big a hit.

Once again, thank you for joining me. Thus ends the story of the _Battle of Who Could Care Less_. As I said, stay tuned and you'll soon see _How To Fix Everything_.


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